


Be My Escape

by pensgarth_deactivated



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bullying, Eating Disorders, F/M, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Physical Abuse, Romance, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:43:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pensgarth_deactivated/pseuds/pensgarth_deactivated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his best friend dies, a little bit of Merlin dies with him. He's struggling with self-harm, Hunith's struggling with alcoholism and everything seems hopeless. Then he meets Arthur Pendragon, someone who might be able to put him back together. Except Arthur's got problems too, and not everything is that simple. Can they make it work?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be My Escape

 

 

It sounded a little bit like scissors cutting paper. Except it was a knife on skin.  
  
So nothing like scissors and paper after all.  
  
A skinny boy and his Swiss army knife. His bedroom, the school toilets, a darkened alleyway. Anywhere. Everywhere. That’s what he needed.  
  
A slice of metal. A sting of pain. The rush of euphoria.  
  
Again and again, he painted his arm with streaks of crimson, a stark contrast against his milky pale skin. Again and again until he could breathe because breathing was important.  
  
He was in the park, sitting cross legged on a bench, his dark hair falling over his face. His arm was cradled in his lap, blood mingled with warm tears and he couldn’t even remember what it was this time. What it was that led him to this moment. He only knew that it ended in Will.  
  
Will, who was strong and loyal and everything good in the world. Will, who was a little bit shorter, but who always protected him when he needed it. Will, who could always make him laugh, even if they were in a fight, because that’s what best friends do.  
  
Will, who had left him.  
  
But really, he’d left Will. He’d left Will and now Will was gone. He stifled a sob as he dragged the knife along his forearm again.  
  
Will had wanted him to stop. He’d shouted and cried until he’d extracted a promise that, yes, it would stop.  
  
 _Never again, Will, I promise._  
  
But he’d lied. He’d broken that promise. He was sitting there, watching the blood seep out of the wound and slide down his arm. It was the deepest so far. He smiled bitterly as he traced the cuts with his forefinger, smudging the lines so his arm was a contemporary piece of art and he wondered, distantly, if anyone would buy it.  
  
Of course they wouldn’t, though, because no-one ever wanted him. Who would? Too skinny, too tall, hair that sticks up and fucking big ears that don’t even have the decency to hide away. No, they would stick out and act as a fucking beacon for bullies. And then the bullies would find out he’s gay, and all hell would break loose because he’s a fucking fag with stupid ears and annoying hair and he’s so lanky he trips over his own bloody limbs as well as everything around him.  
  
Another cut.  
  
Slower.  
  
More painful.  
  
A cut drawn with shaking fingers wrapped around a blood stained knife. He hunched over to watch as it broke the skin, millimetre at a time, and he couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled up inside him. He sat up, looking around frantically to make sure no-one had heard, but the park was empty, thank God, and no-one was there to witness his insanity.  
  
Will had seen it. They’d known each other forever. Will had known him for real, had been the only person who’d wanted him for who he was, but now he was gone. Everyone was gone. Even his mother had sent him away – his fucking mother!  
  
He knew, in that small, rational part of his mind, that he was being stupid, that he was too caught up in his insecurities. He _knew_ that it was wrong but it was also right; more right than anything else, in a way he could never explain to anyone.  
  
He cut again, and it struck him. Looking down at his arm with despondent eyes, he thought of how difficult it was going to be to keep these secrets.  
  
He sighed, suddenly tired. He flicked the blade down and shoved the knife into his pocket, pulling his sleeve over his latest masterpiece. He started walking down the path, and hoped that his uncle wouldn’t be annoyed that he would be so late coming home.  
  


***

  
Merlin walked along the corridor with his head dipped low, trying to attract as little attention as possible. It didn’t work.  
  
“Oi! Big Ears!” someone shouted. Merlin kept walking, feeling the panic well up in his chest.  
  
“He’s talking to you,” someone else said. Merlin didn’t turn around, though he did speed up. Someone shoved him from the side.  
  
“I’m talking to you, runt,” the boy sneered. He was taller than Merlin, with a large, squashed nose and small, dark eyes that were too close together, making him look stupid and dangerous. His short, dark hair was gelled into messy spikes that had gone out of fashion years ago.  
  
Merlin’s chest tightened, and he looked away, struggling to breathe. The boy gave him another shove. “Are you even fucking listening?” People were starting to look at them now, turning away from their conversations in anticipation of the stupid boy about to be beaten up, and Merlin _really_ couldn’t breathe. Each pair of eyes was searing a hole into his skin. His hands were shaking.  
  
Without warning the boy drew back his arm and punched Merlin in the face. He reeled backwards, gasping for air. Tears prickled his eyes.  
  
“Whatever,” the boy said. “Go be a girl somewhere else.” He kicked Merlin’s bag, which had fallen to the ground, spilling books all over the floor, and turned away.  
  
Merlin fell back against the wall, clutching at his chest, willing himself to _breathe_. He stayed like that for several minutes, waiting until the hallway was nearly empty before letting the tears fall as he slid to the floor, knees drawn against his chest. His breath was coming in quick, shallow gasps and he knew that he was fighting off another panic attack. He let his forehead fall onto his knees and waited for the feeling of constriction in his chest to pass, for the shaking to stop.  
  
Someone walked by but they didn’t stop and ask, and for that Merlin was glad.

  
***

  
It was a stupid thing, really: a stupid, embarrassing thing that had left Gwen pink–cheeked and bloody–kneed. Lance had been there to pick her up and help her walk to the first aid room, wrapping an arm around her waist as he asked again and again if she was okay.  
  
“It’s only a scrape,” she said for the third time, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I can walk fine.”  
  
“You fell down a flight of stairs,” Lance said firmly, pulling her closer.  
  
She didn’t know whether to be embarrassed that he seen her do something so utterly idiotic, of ecstatic that she was pressed up against the most gorgeous boy in the world. The thing was, they’d been like this for weeks now; this almost-but-not-quite-dating stage in their relationship was driving her crazy, and Gwen wasn’t even sure if he liked her anymore.  
  
“I can probably take it from here,” she said. He looked disappointed, and she quickly added: “Thank you,” and smiled before turning and walking down the corridor towards the receptionist’s desk.  
  
A tall, blonde woman wearing stilettos and a pencil skirt was sitting at the desk on the phone. She took one look at the blood dribbling down Gwen's leg and held up her hand, asking the person on the other end of the line to–  
  
“ _Please hold just one second–no I’ll be back–thank you, yes, thank you, just one moment.”_  
  
 _–_ before turning her full attention on Gwen.  
  
“Go sit in the medical room while I finish this, then I’ll clean it up.”  
  
The room was small and stuffy. The walls were white, the paint chipped and peeling at the edges where a dirty cabinet was leaning on the wall opposite the door. It was full of medicine bottles, packets of pills, and emergency asthma pumps stacked haphazardly on top of one another. There was a bed pushed up against the left wall, with pillows of different sizes and shapes thrown at one end and a pile of old woollen blankets at the other. A row of chairs lined the other wall.  
  
There was a boy sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. His head jerked up as the door slammed against the wall, and a soggy blue paper towel slid down his face and onto his school trousers where it left a dark wet mark before falling to the floor with a _splat_.  
  
“Sorry, the d–oh my god, are you okay?” Gwen gushed, catching sight of the red-purple bruise blooming on the boy’s cheek.  
  
“Oh, err…” he looked embarrassed, covering the bruise with one hand while scrabbling around on the floor with the other, frantically searching for the paper towel, now infused with dust and dirt. “I’m fine… I–I walked into a door.” He shrugged, refusing to meet her eye. An awkward silence descended over them, and Gwen took a moment to examine him.  
  
In spite of the bruise he was handsome, with a straight nose and full lips and high cheekbones and _gorgeous_ blue eyes, though they were currently flitting nervously around the room, never settling on anything for more than a few seconds. He was twisting his long, thin fingers in the hem of his school jumper and biting his lower lip so hard that Gwen was sure he was going to start bleeding soon. She didn’t know what to say to calm him down. Luckily, she didn’t have to.  
  
“Mr. Emrys,” The receptionist stepped into the room, interrupting Gwen’s thoughts as she handed an empty hot water on the bed and gave an ice pack to Mr. Something–Emrys. She bustled around the room for a few minutes, silence settling over them one again, before turning to the boy. “Do you know the names of any of the students who attacked you?” His face flushed and his eyes flicked to Gwen before returning to examine his hands, which were now fidgeting nervously with the paper towel.  
  
“No,” he mumbled, ripping the blue paper and watching as the small sections fluttered to rest on the floor.  
  
“Well, do you know what they look like?”  
  
“No,” he repeated, turning an even deeper shade of red.  
  
“Well, surely you saw them –”  
  
“I didn’t–It doesn’t–Can I just go to my lesson please?” The woman paused, looking at him thoughtfully. “Please,” he said again, voice shaking and barely more than a whisper. His eyes were shining with unshed tears.  
  
The receptionist sighed. “Okay.” She took the ice pack back and started towards the door.  
  
“Thank you,” he mumbled.  
  
“You’re welcome. But...just try and stay out of trouble, okay?” The boy nodded she walked out, leaving Gwen alone with him.  
  
She smiled nervously.  
  
“Sorry,” the boy said, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground. “I just didn’t want everyone to know.”  
  
“Oh no, that’s okay! There are some real jerks in this school. Are you new? I’ve never seen you before, and they like to target the new ones.” The boy looked stricken, eye wide in fear, and Gwen belatedly realised what she’d just said. “Not that you’re a target! They probably won’t bother you again, so don’t worry or anything. I was just saying that… um…” she trailed off, contemplating, not for the first time that day, her inability to have a normal conversation. She looked sheepishly at him, and he laughed softly, finally lifting his head to meet her worried gaze.  
  
“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the warning – and yeah, I am new. Joined today actually. I didn’t even make it to my first lesson,” he said, gesturing to his face.  
  
“I’m Gwen,” she said, smiling at him.  
  
“Merlin.” He glanced up, expecting her to laugh. She just continued to smile. They fell silent again, and Merlin could hear the receptionist outside the door, waiting for him to leave. He picked his bag off the floor and hoisted it onto his shoulder.  
  
“I’d better…go,” he said, pointing towards the door. He offered her a small smile.  
  
“It was nice meeting you, Merlin,” she said, grinning back at him.  
  
“Bye Gwen.”  
  


***

  
Over the next week Merlin tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. He would pull his sleeves down around his wrists and try to walk along the corridor unnoticed, but it rarely worked.  
  
Valiant – the boy from his first day – would find him and shove him into the lockers, leaving a line of small bruises on his back. If he wasn’t being pushed into the lockers, his bag was being emptied in the corridor, or his books were stolen from his locker during PE. Sometimes – Merlin assumed the boys must have had a bad day – it was worse, and Valiant and a group of his friends would beat Merlin up until he couldn’t hold back the tears any more. On those days Merlin didn’t come out of his room for dinner, and Gaius wouldn’t ask any questions.  
  
Apart from Gwen, who was in his PE class, Merlin hadn’t talked to anyone at school, even after two weeks, and he was fine with that. That was how it was meant to be.  
  
He was fine with sitting alone on the field at lunch, even though the grass was still covered in cold morning frost, soaking through his trousers and leaving him shivering for the rest of the afternoon. He was fine with working on his own during lessons, even if the work was designed for two people. He was fine with walking to and from classes alone, as long as Valiant didn’t find him.  
  
He was fine, except for when he wasn’t.  
  
The panic attacks were getting more frequent. They were usually caused by something stressful, like coming back after PE to find his homework strewn in a puddle, but they could be triggered by something as small and inconsequential as being walked into on the street, or seeing his reflection in a mirror.  
  
He could feel the sadness settling in his body. It was the black haze at the edge of his vision, and the weight in his chest. It kept him up at night as he tried to work out what he’d done wrong to deserve this, and kept him in his bed the next morning, every move triggering a physical ache inside of him. It was the way he rested his head against the cool bathroom tiles, glad that Gaius hadn’t heard him throwing up this time. It was the way the knife no longer shook when he cut into the skin of his arm; the way cutting was the only thing that made him happy these days.  
  
Going to see his mother made it worse. She would shout and drink, and he would curl into a ball on the blow–up mattress, silently crying as he listened to her clattering around the kitchen, shouting about her _fucking son messing things up again_ , internally chanting the mantra of _it’s only the alcohol talking, it’s only the alcohol talking_ and praying for her to recover soon.  
  
The next morning he’d kiss her on the cheek as he got ready to leave, and she’d tell him that she missed him. He’d smile – something he’d become very good at faking – and tell her he didn’t mind, as long as she was getting better.  
  


***

  
Two weeks into the start of term, Merlin was sitting at the back of his English classroom. His eyes followed the blond boy across the room, not leaving his face until he sat down at the desk in front.  
  
 _Arthur Pendragon._  
  
He sighed, then quickly ducked his head in case anyone had seen him looking, a blush already spreading over his cheeks.  
  
Arthur would never like him anyway – never even notice him – so he might as well carry on making notes on his book rather than fantasise about making out with certain blond haired sports god on his bed.  
  


***

  
Arthur’s eyes did a circuit of the room before falling on the boy sitting behind him, reading his book, a frown lining his forehead. He’d noticed him before, but never properly looked at him.  
  
He was skinny and had messy dark hair which cast a shadow over his eyes. His bag looked old and his uniform second hand, and Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. Despite the sweltering heat of the afternoon, he had his sleeves rolled down and buttoned around his thin wrists.  
  
He had gorgeous eyes.  
  
Arthur tried to swallow, throat suddenly dry. He wanted to be confused about why this strange, gangly boy was making his stomach do little frontflips, but he had known the answer for more time than he wanted to admit.  
  
He suppressed a groan as he let his head drop down to the desk with a hollow _thump_.  
  


***

  
If Uther ever found out, Arthur was dead. _So fucking dead_. If people thought that his father had reacted badly to Morgana’s self–harm, wait until they saw what he would do when he found out his one and only son was gay.  
  
Arthur sat down heavily on his bed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing his fringe out of his eyes. _Fuck_.  
  
It was just one magazine. Uther would never find it and, in all honesty, it was fucking good wank material so he should keep it. Shouldn’t he?  
  
 _What if Uther_ did _find it though?_ the little voice in his head asked. _What if he found it and disowned you? What if he sent you to live with some distant relative? What if–_  
  
Arthur got up and threw it away, deciding that he’d prefer to go for a run anyway. Let out some steam.  
  
“You only do sport when you’re upset,” Morgana said as she walked into his room no less than five minutes later. His head jerked up and cast a nervous look at the bin, but it was impossible to see the contents. Thank fuck.  
  
“Someone’s feeling better.” Arthur smiled up at her from where he was tying his shoelaces, pointedly ignoring the question. She flopped down to lie across his bed, frowning.  
  
“Yes, I am, but don’t change the subject.”  
  
“I do sport because I like it,” Arthur said tiredly, shifting to do up the other shoe.  
  
“Fine then, let me rephrase, dickhead, even though you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about. You only _obsessively_ do sport when you’re upset.” She paused, looking at him thoughtfully. “Tell me what it is,” she added gently, and Arthur sighed.  
  
“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Morgana started to speak but Arthur cut her off. “I’m sorry, I really have to go. Love you.”  
  
“I’ll find out, you know!” she shouted after him and Arthur smiled. She really was feeling better.  
  
“There’s nothing to find out,” he said, even though that was a lie. He wasn’t in the mood to explain his concern about his sexuality, his concern about his grades, and his concern for her wellbeing right now. He just wanted to go for a run. He left the house as quickly as he could, knowing that Morgana wouldn’t bother coming after him.  
  


***

  
His sports–induced good mood didn’t last long.  
  
Two hours later, he sat back down on the edge of his bed, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He stayed like that for a long time, trying not to let his mind wander too much.  
  
“What are you thinking about?” Arthur snapped his head around to where Morgana was standing in the doorway, cursing her ability to sneak up on his like that. She looked pale and drawn, and Arthur had a hunch that she’d been crying _again_ , but there was something like a fire in her eyes, and it gave Arthur hope beyond anything he’d felt in the last few months.  
  
“Hi Morgs. You okay?” He shifted on the bed to make room for her. She smiled, leaning against his side and resting her head on his shoulder.  
  
“What were you thinking about?” she asked again, and Arthur sighed.  
  
“School and shit,” he said, and it wasn’t too far from the truth. Morgana nodded, knowing he was lying, and closed her eyes. They stayed like that – lost in the comfortable silence – for several minutes, until it was broken by a sharp intake of breath.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Morgana whispered. Arthur didn’t need to ask what about. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head. “I’m going to try to stop,” she said, suddenly, gesturing at her arm. “I really am, this time. It’s not fair on you.” She smiled sadly before continuing. “There’s a thing called The Butterfly Project. You draw a butterfly wherever you...do it, and if you cut again when it’s still there you’re ‘killing it’,” She laughed, her smile lightening up her face. “It’s childish, I know, but I want to try it.”  
  
Arthur nodded, grinning. “That’s good, Morgs. That’s great!”  
  
“I want you to draw the butterfly,” she said, sitting up straighter. Her cheeks were slightly pink, but she looked better already.  
  
“I’m crap at drawing though,” he laughed, and she laughed with him. It made something squeeze in his chest, because Morgana _never_ laughed – or she hadn’t for months.  
  
“Learn then, wanker,” she teased, grabbing a pen from his desk.  
  
Arthur internally winced as Morgana pulled her sleeves up, revealing the scars and cuts that laced her arms, but he tried not to let it show on his face. “This is going to be so shitty,” he warned as he started drawing, ignoring the giggles from his sister.  
  
“You’re right,” she said when he was done, and he gave her a gentle shove. “It is crap.”  
  
“You’re meant to say ‘ _it’s great, Arthur, thank you,_ ’ you ungrateful wench,” he growled, pretending to frown. She swatted at his arm playfully, beaming at him. She got up and skipped to the door, turning around to blow a kiss at him.  
  
“Love you,” she sing–songed before turning and leaving.  
  
Arthur clenched his hands into fists. _Just get better,_ he thought, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to spill onto his cheeks.  
  


***

  
“What the fuck is this, Morgana?”  
  
Arthur could hear the shouting downstairs and covered his head with a pillow. He was too hot under the duvet, but it was the only thing between him and Uther, so he stayed under it, taking his shirt off instead.  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” he heard Morgana say quietly. Something smashed.  
  
“Of course it matters, you stupid girl! My own daughter, is still self–harming, even after all the therapy!”  
  
“That shit doesn’t work and you know it!” Morgana started to run up the stairs but Uther stopped her, dragging her back down. For a moment Arthur thought he was going to hit her, but no, he wouldn’t do that. Never that. “Get off me!” she shouted, and Arthur winced.  
  
“You’re going to stop this, do you understand?”  
  
“Fuck off!” Morgana shouted, and something else broke downstairs. Arthur sat up.  
  
“Don’t you _dare_ speak to me like that!” Uther roared, and Morgana screamed.  
  
Arthur was out of bed and halfway down the stairs before he realised what he was going to do.  
  
“Dad!” he shouted, making Uther stop and look at him. “What are you doing?” he asked, quietly, subdued now that all of Uther’s rage was directed at him.  
  
“Morgana’s been self–harming again,” Uther said, voice quiet and full of anger.  
  
Arthur gulped. “I know.” Arthur’s eyes flicked to Morgana, who was looking at him, wide–eyed and scared. There were still a few open cuts on her arm underneath Arthur–butterfly. He looked back to Uther. “You’re doing this wrong,” he told him quietly. Uther was silent. “If she’s upset about something, you need to support her, not shout at her. That’s not going to help anyone.”  
  
“Go to bed, Arthur.”  
  
Arthur didn’t move. Uther turned back to Morgana. “What have you got to be _so sad_ about?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. Morgana’s expression crumpled as she covered her face with her hands. Uther slammed his fist down on the table. Morgana jumped but didn’t look at him.  
  
The full force of his anger was about to be unleashed on Morgana.  
  
Morgana, who was still crying.  
  
Morgana, who didn’t have the strength to defend herself from his words anymore.  
  
Morgana, his _sister_.  
  
Arthur had to protect her. He took a step forward.  
  
“I’m gay.”  
  
Uther turned around. Arthur swallowed.  
  
“Go to bed, Arthur,” Uther said again, turning back to Morgana.  
  
“Did you hear me? I’m gay. I’m really, really gay. I want to talk about it,” he said, voice getting louder as he went on. Uther spun around to face him again. Morgana shrank back against the wall, silent plea dying on her lips.  
  
“Go to be–”  
  
“No! I’m fucking gay, okay?” Arthur shouted.  
  
“I don’t care, Arthur,” Uther said, not as angry any more. “I can see what you’re doing. You think you’re protecting Morgana by telling me something that you think will make me angrier.” He smiled sadly. Arthur frowned. He didn’t understand. “That’s a noble thing to do.”  
  
“No,” Arthur said, shakily. “I really am gay,”  
  
“That’s fine,” Uther said, and Arthur’s mouth fell open.  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don’t care about your sexuality. We will talk about it at another time but I’m not angry, and right now I’m talking to Morgana. Go to bed.” Arthur stood up slowly, uncomprehending for a moment, before turning and walking back upstairs.  
  
A little while later Morgana crept into his room.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered, sliding into the bed beside him.  
  
“What happened when I left?” Arthur asked, because he hadn’t been able to hear anything.  
  
“Uther apologised and said that he cared about me and wanted me to get better but he handled it in the wrong way.” Arthur thought he could see her smiling, but it was dark and he couldn’t be sure. “Thank you.”  
  
“What are you thanking me for?” Arthur laughed shakily. Morgana turned to face him, propping herself up on one elbow.  
  
“You might think that all you did was land yourself in shit but you didn’t. It was because of you that he realised shouting wouldn’t make me feel better. He said he was proud of you for trying to save me, and for telling him the truth.” She paused. “How long have you known for?”  
  
Arthur blushed. “I dunno, a couple of months I guess. Why?”  
  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, and Arthur smiled. She sounded like her usual, whiny self.  
  
“You had enough to deal with.” She hummed in agreement. “Do you want me to re–draw Arthur–butterfly?” he asked. He felt Morgana nod. “In the morning.”  
  
He fell asleep quickly, and when he woke up the next morning, Morgana was gone. There was a note on his desk.  
  
 _Thank you._  
  


***

  
“What kind of name is _Merlin?_ ”  
  
Merlin spun around to see Valiant, flanked by three friends, standing in the empty corridor. Merlin braced himself as Valiant shoved him against the wall of lockers. He winced as a lock dug into his back but said nothing. He never said anything.  
  
“What about those _ears_?” Someone else said, and Merlin felt his face heat up, his chest tighten.  
  
“He looks like a fucking faggot to me,” someone said, a girl this time. Vivian. She had long blonde hair, and if it weren’t for the menacing smile plastered on her face, Merlin would have thought her incapable of hurting anyone. The first boy – Valiant – snorted and pushed him against the lockers again.  
  
“Bet you’re a proper faggot, aren’t you?” He growled. Merlin tried to keep his features neutral but couldn’t help the blush that spread deeper over his face.  
  
“Oh my fucking God, he’s a proper bender!”  
  
“Fuck,” someone whispered as Valiant smashed him into the lockers again. Merlin started to panic. This hadn’t happened before.  
  
“You like to take it up the arse, do you?” Valiant snarled, and spat in Merlin’s face. He rammed his elbow into Merlin’s stomach, making him double forward, before he was thrown backwards again. Merlin’s head hit something hard and he saw stars.  
  
He was vaguely aware of other names being shouted at him and one time someone, maybe Vivian, slapped him across the face, but he was drifting away.  
  
Suddenly they stopped. There was shouting, then cool hands touched his cheek.  
  
“Merlin,” someone said. Someone with a soft, gentle voice. He tried to open his eyes but they were too far away… just too far…  
  
They tapped his shoulder, and Merlin jerked forwards. He let out a muffled moan.  
  
“He’s waking up,” the soft voice – Gwen’s voice – said. Someone shook his shoulder gently. He winced and slowly opened his eyes.  
  
Gwen let out a sigh of relief.  
  
Merlin looked around blearily and saw two boys standing behind her. He tried to say something, to warn her, but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. He curled in on himself, getting ready for another round of punches.  
  
Gwen touched his shoulder gently.  
  
“Don’t worry, Merlin. That’s Leon and my brother, Elyan. They won’t hurt you.” Merlin looked up warily.  
  
Elyan smiled at him and Leon crouched down next to him, strawberry–blond hair bouncing over his forehead.  
  
“Can I…?” He asked, gesturing to the back of Merlin’s head. Merlin made a sort–of–noise of agreement.  
  
Leon’s hands were warm and dry, and instantly found the bump on the back of his head. His fingers were gentle, but Merlin couldn’t help the tiny whine of pain that escaped him as Leon applied pressure to the bump.  
  
“I think you’ll be fine,” he said, and Merlin knew it was true. He’d dealt with worse before.  
  
Elyan and Leon helped him to the first aid room as Gwen followed nervously behind them. They laid him down on a bed and told Gwen to watch him before going outside, shutting the door behind them.  
  
He could hear their voices behind the door but ignored them, instead focusing on staying awake. He could feel Gwen’s hands on his arm, rolling his sleeves up. There was a sharp intake of breath.  
  
“Oh my God, Merlin,” she choked out, voice thick with tears.  
  
His eyes opened suddenly. Gwen jumped backwards.  
  
“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered brokenly and she nodded, biting her lip and stroking a thumb over his hand.  
  


***

  
Gwen began talking to him more and more, and soon Merlin stopped going to PE just to avoid her, preferring to spend two hours a week locked in one of the school toilet cubicles. It wasn’t like anyone noticed he was gone anyway.  
  
It wasn’t that he didn’t like her; in fact, it was the opposite. She was kind and caring and funny, and everything Merlin could want in a friend.  
  
But Merlin couldn’t have friends. Friends would be disgusted by him, by his cuts and scars and _pain_. Friends would try and change him, make him normal, and no matter how much he wanted to be normal he _couldn’t_. And even if they accepted him for who he was, they’d leave eventually. They always did. _Always_.  
  


***

  
Merlin lay awake, chest heaving. He was tired, so tired, but sleep never came easily anymore. He couldn’t slow his thoughts down enough to relax, to sink into his pillows and rest, and when he eventually fell asleep, he was plagued by nightmares.  
  


***

  
_A deep breath in._   
  
_A deep breath out._   
  
_In. Out._   
  
_In. Out._   
  
_Merlin could hear his mother crashing around downstairs. A chair thrown sideways. A glass smashed against a wall. The moans of a broken–hearted woman who’s turned to alcohol as an escape._   
  
_He wiped away a tear that was rolling down his cheek and took another deep breath. And another. Then one more._   
  
_He could hear her on the stairs, stumbling as she made no attempt to be quiet. He held his breath as she passed his room, as she paused to listen outside the closed door._   
  
_She moved on._   
  
_His body was itching to move but he didn’t dare make a noise for fear that she would hear him. It would do no good to anger her further._   
  
_Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty._   
  
_When the clock struck midnight, Merlin allowed himself to stretch, revelling in the sound and feel of his back cracking. He closed his eyes, finally letting sleep take him._   
  


_***_

  
_The next morning he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek as she nursed a black coffee and two paracetamol tablets._   
  
_“Did you sleep well, love?” she asked, voice hoarse._   
  
_“Yeah… like a log.” He smiled reassuringly at her and she managed a tight lipped smile in return._   
  
_“You’d better hurry up or you’ll miss the bus.”_   
  


_***_

  
_A deep breath in._   
  
_A deep breath out._   
  
_In. Out._   
  
_In. Out._   
  
  


__

 

 

_Again, Merlin could hear his mother downstairs. Again, she was drunk. Again he was angrily wiping the tears away, because really, what kind of teenaged boy cries himself to sleep every night?_  
  
 _As she made her way up the stairs, he stiffened in his bed and held his breath. Her foot collided with something in the corridor as she walked past. She let out a hiss and stopped. He could hear her every breath, every rustle of clothing as she bent down and picked it up. She straightened up and he could hear her turning it over in her hands. At the familiar sound of the hollow wood, Merlin’s heart sped up. It was his box. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the nightmare that was about to ensue._  
  
 _She threw the door open and it slammed against his wall. He lay still, but moonlight fell over his face and she saw that he was awake._  
  
 _“Don’t leave your shit in my corridor.” She snarled. Merlin swallowed before he dared to speak._  
  
 _“I’m sorry, mum, I –”_  
  
 _“No you’re fucking not!” She screamed as she launched the box at him. It hit him square in the chest and knocked the breath out of his lungs. He lay on the bed, gasping. She walked out._  
  


 

_***_

  
_The next morning she wasn’t home, but there was a note on the kitchen table._   
  
**Gone to work. Have a lovely day, darling boy. Love Mum x**   
  
_He folded it up and put it in his pocket before walking to the fridge and removing the bottles of vodka and wine. He hid them under his bed and made his way to school._   
  


_***_

  
_A deep breath in._   
  
_A deep breath out._   
  
_In. Out._   
  
_In. Out._   
  
_There was no hesitation this time. She stormed into his bedroom, her eyes ablaze with anger._   
  
_“Give them back, you little shit!” She shouted, voice cracking at the end._   
  
_“You don’t need them, mum,” Merlin pleaded, edging away from her. She grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him close enough that he could smell the alcohol on her breath. How had he missed them?_   
  
_“Give. Them. Back.” She forced out through gritted teeth. Merlin stayed silent. She slapped him. He reeled backwards, too shocked to cry out. Before he had time to react she grabbed him by the hair, shaking him hard. “You fucking stupid child!” Droplets of spit flew out of her mouth as she shouted. When he tried to close his eyes, she slapped him again. “You fucking waste of space! I have my own problems too, you know! I can’t deal with you and your fucking issues all the fucking time!” She stopped shaking him and stood still, chest heaving. “Will’s dead, Merlin. He’s not coming back. Get over it.” She stood over him as his face crumpled. If Merlin didn’t know better, he would have thought he’d seen a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. “Now give me my drinks, you selfish bastard.” Merlin whimpered but shook his head firmly. “You’re as bad as your fucking father. Give me my bottles!” Merlin didn’t move. She raised her clenched fist._   
  
_She found them anyway, when he was lying in a daze on his bed. He didn’t try to stop her._   
  


_***_

  
_The next morning he went straight to the bathroom. His face was coloured with purple bruises to match his arms and chest. He would never be able to hide these._   
  
_He washed his face and changed into his uniform, hesitating before going downstairs. He was scared._   
  
_Things would be different from then onwards._   
  


_***_

  
_That afternoon when he came home from school his mother was sitting at the kitchen table. He knew instantly that she had been crying._   
  
_“Sit down, Merlin.” She began, and straight away he knew what was happening. “I talked to some people today and –” she paused and licked her lips, taking a shuddering breath, “and I think it would be best if you went to stay with Uncle Gaius for a little while.” A single tear rolled down her cheek. Merlin got up and went to his bedroom._   
  


_***_

  
_Merlin moved in with Gaius that weekend. His mother cried and told him over and over again how sorry she was. He hugged her and said he was fine – that he didn’t mind since he would like this school better than his last one anyway. She gave him a watery smile, but he refused to cry in front of her. He didn’t want her to know how much he was hurting, how much he was burning with anger that things had gone so very, very wrong._   
  
_That night he gripped his penknife and sobbed, his tears washing away the blood on his arm._   
  


***

  
Angrily, Merlin wiped away his tears.  
  
“Hey Will,” he whispered into the darkness, “it sucks without you here.”

  
***

  
Arthur looked at the bodies around him – the sweaty, muscular, decidedly too naked bodies – and started to panic. Everywhere he looked there was another guy getting changed and _What if someone sees me looking?_ he thought, desperately looking down at his feet.  
  
“You okay, mate?” Gwaine’s voice came from above him but he didn’t dare look. Gwaine was _hot_.  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Arthur said gruffly, scratching the back of his neck. He felt Gwaine sit down next to him and automatically leaned away. Gwaine sighed.  
  
“This has got to stop, you know. Just chill out, it’s not a big deal.” He received a slap on the back and heard Gwaine’s receding footsteps. He let his head fall down between his knees.  
  
It was clear that they both knew what he was talking about. Ever since Arthur had realised he was gay – and subsequently had a freakout to Gwaine – things had been off. The problem was that he didn’t know how to be gay. Girls? He could deal with girls. Girls were soft and pretty and liked soft, pretty, girly things. Boys? Fuck if he knew. And that lead to more freakouts, especially regarding his friends.  
  
The thing was, he didn’t even like any of the guys on the team. Sure, Valiant was muscular, but his nose was fat and ugly. Yeah, Elyan was hot, but he was too short. Okay, Gwaine could have been a model if he’d wanted, but Arthur knew him too fucking well to ever find him remotely attractive.  
  
Arthur didn’t find anyone attractive, really.  
  
 _That’s not true!_ the little voice in his head piped up, helpfully supplying an image of the new boy; the one with dark hair and pale skin, almost too thin to be healthy, but gorgeous nonetheless.  
  
Arthur gulped, running his hands through his hair and pushing all thoughts out of his mind. It wasn’t like he’d ever act on them anyway. Safer to wait until uni.  
  
“You ready?” Gwaine asked, standing at his shoulder again. Arthur nodded and heaved himself up from the bench.  
  
They walked through the school in silence. Arthur was starting to feel better, Merlin already slipping out of his mind, when they walked into their classroom, and his stomach lurched painfully. There was a pile of papers sitting on the front desk. Grade sheets.  
  
He picked out his and let his eyes slide over the words on the page, not taking in anything other than the letters standing out, bold and black against the cheap white paper.  
  
D, F, A, B, A*, A, C, B, A*, D, B.  
  
He swore under his breath, folding the piece of paper before anyone could see it. It seemed that Gwaine didn’t need to see the sheet to discover the problem – they knew each other too well.  
  
“Shit predicted grades?” he asked, sympathetic smile on his face.  
  
Arthur nodded, frowning. “I’d better go talk to our head of year then,” he grumbled.  
  
Gwaine barked out a laugh. “Good luck with him, mate!” Arthur ignored him.  
  


***

  
“Mr. Pendragon,” Professor Kilgharrah started, permanent scowl chiselled into his forehead. “If you don’t work hard in your lessons you won’t get the grades. There’s nothing more I can do.”  
  
Arthur gulped and scratched at a thin patch of material on his trousers. “I do work hard, sir,” he said firmly.  
  
“Then what’s this I hear about you messing around during your last English lesson?” the teacher asked sternly. Arthur ducked his head.  
  
“Sorry, sir.”  
  
There was a pause, in which neither of them said anything.  
  
“You could always seek out a tutor,” The teacher suggested. Arthur wanted to object, already imagining how his father would react to him needing extra help, but didn’t mention it, simply thanking the professor and making his way back to the English classroom for his final lesson of the day.  
  


***

  
Twenty minutes in, Arthur’s head snapped up. The pretty blonde girl sitting next to him – Vivian, he thought her name was – slid a piece of paper across the desk to rest in front of him.  
  
“It’s from your friend, not me.” She told him before turning back to her books. He looked down at the note.  
  
 _Valiant’s decided he doesn’t like the new guy. – Leon_  
  
Arthur turned around, already knowing where Merlin sat. The boy looked up. He had deep blue eyes that made Arthur’s breath hitch in his chest, and shocked him into turning around to face the front again. He swallowed and scribbled a note back to Leon.  
  
“Could you please –” he started as he turned to Vivian but she cut him off.  
  
“Whatever.” She huffed, and took the note without looking at him. Arthur shrugged and carried on making notes in the margins. His reply from Leon arrived within a minute.  
  
 **Apparently he’s called Gandalf. Bit odd, right? + He never talks to anyone. –A**  
  
You’re just jealous he’s better looking than you. – The Greatest Guy in the World  
  
 _Don’t be such a dick. He’s called Merlin. We should talk to him at the end of the lesson. –Leon_  
 _PS. Sorry about the idiot, I couldn’t stop him._  
  
Arthur turned to where Leon and Gwaine were lounging at the back of the room – the lucky bastards had actually read the book over the holidays. He stuck his tongue out at Gwaine – who gave him the finger – and mouthed “football” to Leon, who nodded solemnly. Gwaine started moving his arms in short, sharp movements – up and down – and Leon’s serious facade crumbled, and he had to smother his laughter behind a hand.  
  
 _What is he doing?_ Arthur thought, racking his brains for an answer. _Charades!_ He realised, grinning. _He looks like a… a…_  
  
“Plane?” he mouthed, but Gwaine shook his head. “Bird?” He shook his head again but widened his eyes, bouncing up and down in his seat a little bit.“Err… pigeon?” He stopped bouncing and gestured for Arthur to backtrack. “Is it an animal?” Gwaine nodded. _But not a bird?_  
  
Arthur paused for a second, glancing to the front of the classroom where his teacher was writing on the board. Still.  
  
“Is it… a bee?” Gwaine was bouncing again, grinning and gesturing madly with his hands. “A wasp?!” Gwaine punched the air. A stern voice brought Arthur’s attention back to the front.  
  
“Mr. Pendragon,” He looked up sharply to see Professor Gaius leaning over his desk, shoulder length white hair falling over his face.  
  
“Sorry sir.” Arthur mumbled.  
  
“What were you doing?” His voice was laced with disapproval.  
  
“Nothing, si–”  
  
“ _What were you doing_?” He asked again, more forcefully this time. Arthur sighed resignedly.  
  
“I was talking to Leon and Gwaine, sir. Sorry.” He shot them an apologetic glance before lifting his head to meet his teacher’s eyes. Gaius raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Right. Where’s your homework?” Arthur’s eyes widened as he saw the stack of papers – unmistakably the English  essay they were set last lesson – on Gaius’ desk. He swallowed.  
  
“I… don’t have it, sir. Sorry.”  
  
“Well then,” Gaius began, frowning. “The three of you can stay back after school to help me tidy up the book cupboard.” Gwaine made an incredulous noise, but their teacher silenced him with a look, and turned back to Arthur, who was already pleading with him.  
  
“Please sir, can we do another day instead? We’ve got football, and I’m captain so I’ve got to go or I might lose my place–”  
  
“No! No, these are the consequences of your actions. Do your homework and don’t talk in my lessons.” He turned back to the whiteboard, leaving Arthur miserably slumped in his chair. He looked over to his friends. Leon smiled grimly at him – ever the supportive friend – and Gwaine mimed shooting himself in the head. Arthur huffed out a laugh and continued to make notes.  
  


***

  
When the bell rang the three boys got up and waited by the door, watching as everyone trailed out of the classroom.  
  
“Sir,” Arthur started when the room was nearly empty. Gaius looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Leon and Gwaine are only here because of me. I should be punished, not them.” Leon began to protest, but Gwaine elbowed him. A silence stretched out as Gaius contemplated what Arthur had said. Finally, he spoke.  
  
“Very well, they can go.” Arthur broke out into a grin, nodding at Leon and receiving a not–so–gentle punch on the arm from Gwaine as they left. He could hear them whooping as they ran down the corridor and burst through the double doors at the end. He couldn’t help but feel happy for them. However, that happiness was brought to a swift close as his teacher continued. “But you will come in every Friday for the next four weeks.” Arthur’s face fell as his heart plummeted – not only would he lose his place as captain, but he would probably be kicked off the team altogether. However, he knew better than to complain.  
  
“Thank you, sir.”  
  
“Right. Good.” He waved the skinny boy – _Merlin_ – over from where he had been standing awkwardly, fiddling with his sleeve. “This is my nephew. He’ll be helping too.” Merlin smiled tentatively at Arthur, who nodded in return, not trusting himself to speak. Gaius turned and walked out of the room.  
  
The two boys walked side by side in silence, and Arthur certainly didn’t get a warm feeling at the bottom of his stomach when their hands accidentally brushed. That feeling didn’t grow when he heard Merlin’s sharp intake of breath, and it definitely didn’t spread all over when he saw Merlin’s blush.  
  
It certainly didn’t make his chest go cold and tight when Merlin crossed his arms across his chest, refusing to look at him.  
  
 _Man up, Pendragon_ , he thought grimly, determined not to get distracted by Big–Ears. He was just horny, he reasoned, and there was plenty of porn to solve that.  
  


***

  
Arthur knew that they’d been working in silence for too long, but he didn’t know what to say. Merlin was unnaturally shy and withdrawn, never meeting Arthur’s eyes, no matter how often he looked.  
  
Which was very often.  
  
He forced himself to look back to the book, flipping through each page, checking for writing. It was a dull and boring task, and Arthur wished he could initiate some sort of conversation with the boy beside him, but despite the small distance, there seemed to be a wall between them.  
  
Arthur shook his head and hardened his resolve to get on with the work. He carried on for several minutes, firmly ignoring Merlin’s presence, and it was only when he heard something tapping on the table that he looked up.  
  
“Will you stop doing that,” he snapped, and Merlin looked up at him, eyes wide.  
  
“Sorry,” Merlin said quietly, eyes big and blue. Arthur snorted because Merlin looked so much like a baby deer it was unbelievable. Merlin’s cheeks coloured.  
  
“I wasn’t laughing at you,” Arthur said quickly, but Merlin looked away. On a whim, he reached out to touch Merlin’s arm, but the raven–haired boy reeled backwards, flattening himself against the wall. “Woah,” Arthur said slowly, taking a step back. “I’m not going to bite. I was just thinking about how you looked like a baby deer and it made me laugh.”  
  
The boy relaxed slightly, taking a small step away from the wall, and gave him a shy smile. Arthur grinned. “You’ve certainly got the ears for it,” he joked, hoping he would get to see Merlin smile properly. Instead his face crumpled and he looked like he’d been punched in the chest. It lasted only a moment before he straightened up and turned back to the books, not looking at Arthur.  
  
It was at that point that Gaius walked through the door. “Time to go home, boys,” he said cheerfully. Merlin turned and fled, leaving Arthur and Gaius alone.  
  
“I– I don’t know what I did,” Arthur stuttered, looking in the direction Merlin had gone. Gaius sighed.  
  
“He can be sensitive,” he said quietly, in a way that Arthur recognised as meaning it was much, much more serious than that. He nodded grimly at the teacher before turning and walking towards the exit. There was nothing he could do now.  
  


***

  
Merlin sat on the floor of the school bathroom.  
  
 _You’ve got the ears for it_.  
  
Big, ugly, stupid ears that the only person Merlin had even considered remotely attractive in half a year had made fun of.  
  
 _I won’t make that mistake again_ , Merlin thought. _Arthur’s a prat, just like every other footballer in the world._  
  
Merlin cursed himself for being so stupid. He ran his fingernails down his arm, making old cuts bleed as he took off the scabs. It calmed him down, seeing the blood ooze onto his pale skin, and it wasn’t long before he could get up off the floor, wipe his face and make his way to Gaius’ car.  
  


***

  
Arthur lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The good thing was that he still had his place as captain. Gwaine had told the coach everything that had happened, and as long as Arthur kept fit he could come back. However, he didn’t feel as happy as he should. How could he, after that afternoon.  
  
 _Why did Merlin rush out so fast? It couldn’t have been the comment about the ears, could it? Surely not. That was a joke!_ Arthur thought desperately, but something clenched painfully in his stomach. That _had_ to be the reason.  
  
Arthur threw his pillow at the wall.  
  
He’d try and talk to Merlin on Monday.  
  


***

  
Everywhere he went, he was sure he saw Merlin. The dark, messy hair at the other end of the corridor belonged to someone entirely different and the glimpse of pale skin in the toilets wasn’t really there at all.  
  
Arthur rubbed circles into his temples and realised that maybe, just maybe, he was getting a little bit obsessed.  
  
By the time Friday came around he hadn’t seen Merlin once, but decided that it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. At all.  
  
He couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment, though, when he arrived at the English cupboard after school and Merlin wasn’t there.  
  
Neither Gaius nor Arthur spoke for ten minutes, the only noise being the thump of books being piled up and the scratching of pen on paper as the professor marked essays. Eventually Arthur broke the silence.  
  
“Where’s that other boy?” He asked.  
  
Gaius made a noise of disapproval. “ _Merlin_ is otherwise engaged. Now get back to work.” Arthur was surprised that Merlin had been able to get out of the job so easily, but as he worked through the books, the quiet whisper of pages erased all else from his mind. Merlin was temporarily forgotten.  
  


***

  
Arthur woke up slowly on Saturday. His father was on a business trip and Morgana had slept over at a friend’s, leaving the house eerily empty. On a whim, he left and got on the bus to the town centre. He went straight to the corner shop to buy food because in the ten minutes it had taken to get there he had worked up an appetite. He bought a bar of chocolate, and chatted to the man on the till until another customer needed to pay. As he stepped outside the shop he walked headlong into another person.  
  
He quickly said sorry and turned to walk away, but stopped when he caught sight of the boy’s tear stained face. It was Merlin.  
  
“Hey, mate, are you okay?” he asked, but the boy turned around and began to walk away. There was a moment of indecision before Arthur ran to catch up with him. “Are you okay?” he said again, louder this time.  
  
“Oh, uhm, yes, sorry, thank you…sorry…” Merlin trailed off, avoiding looking at Arthur.  
  
“Well, you don’t look like it,” Arthur stated, then quickly added, “not in a bad way…” Merlin let out a strangled laugh.  
  
“I don’t know how this could look good!” Arthur chuckled. There was an awkward silence, during which Arthur took in the appearance of this bedraggled boy in front of him. Black skinny jeans and a green hoodie hung off his body, making him seem even thinner than he had in his uniform, with tatty blue Converse on his feet. He had his hood pulled up, but Arthur could see his dark hair curling around his ears, and puffy blue eyes staring at the ground. His face was wet from crying.  
  
“Do… do you want to get a drink and talk about it, or…?” he left the question hanging, suddenly embarrassed. Merlin looked up sharply.  
  
“No.” Arthur must have looked hurt, because he added, “Sorry, and thank you for asking but… I’ve got to go.” Arthur nodded. They stood awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to do.  
  
“Uhm, bye then.” Arthur said, and did a funny wave thing, intending to make the other boy laugh. He simply blushed instead. “I’ll see you around, yeah?” Merlin nodded, and they walked off in opposite directions. Every couple of steps Arthur looked back, but Merlin never turned.  
  


***

  
Merlin didn’t look back, even though he could feel eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. He carried on walking, placing one foot in front of the other, carefully making sure he didn’t trip over in front of Arthur.  
  
Arthur.  
  
Arthur, who was popular and funny and captain of the football team.  
  
Arthur, who was blond–haired and blue–eyed and more than a little bit gorgeous.  
  
Arthur, who had just seen Merlin cry in a public place and hadn’t freaked out. Who hadn’t even been _mean_.  
  
Just…Arthur.  
  
Arthur.  
  
ArthurArthurArthur.  
  
 _This is ridiculous,_ he thought, but his brain just wouldn’t stop. He replayed the scene again and again in his head, analysing every detail. Thinking of every possible outcome. What if things had been different? _He’d_ been different?  
  
When the bus pulled up, he stepped on, touching his Oyster card to the yellow pad, and threw himself into the first empty chair he saw. He tipped his head back, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
 _Arthur looked worried. “Well, you don’t look like it,” he said, then panicked. “Not in a bad way…” he added gently, leaning in slightly. His eyes were very blue…blue and full of something like…concern. But why would Arthur be concerned about Merlin? Why would he care?_  
  
 _“Do you want to get a drink and talk about it?” Merlin’s heart sped up in his chest and he had to fight the urge to smile before he came to his senses._ He wasn’t asking you out. no-one would want to go on a date with you.  
  
 _He panicked and rejected him unthinkingly. Arthur took a step back, hurt mirrored in his eyes and Merlin felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach. Stupid, Merlin. He should’ve–_  
  
“Bus 304, to Camelot Hospital.” The metallic voice of the loudspeaker shocked him out of his musings. Merlin groaned.  
  
 _I’m on the wrong fucking bus_. He let his head fall against the railing with a soft _clang,_ wincing at the sharp pain on his forehead and the sudden attention from everyone on the bus. An old woman sitting a few rows behind him looked concerned so Merlin smiled in what was meant to be a reassuring way before turning around. He pressed the stop button and played with the sleeve of his too–big jumper as he waited for the bus to pull up at the next stop, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible.  
  
He nearly managed it.  
  
As he walked down the bus towards the doors his foot got caught on a pushchair. He tripped and fell on top of a woman who was clutching her newborn son to her chest.  
  
“Sorry, sorry!” he said, lifting his hands in apology. She frowned but said nothing, watching as he reeled backwards into a tall bald man with tattooed arms. “Oh God,” he swallowed. “I’m _really_ sorry…” the man raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. Merlin backed away slowly, making sure he didn’t crash into anyone else and looked around the bus, suddenly embarrassed that _people had seen him_.  
  
There were several old people looking at him with wide–eyed shock, a builder of some description, two businessmen, the woman he had fallen on and Baldy, who was looking at him with something close to amusement in his eyes.  
  
 _Thank God there’s no-one I know_ , he thought, but it didn’t stop the blush from creeping up his neck. He stopped and took a final breath before trying to step off the bus with as much dignity as he could muster.  
  
His bag got caught in the doors as they shut.  
  
By the time he was sitting on the bench at the bus stop he felt ready to die.  
  
The next bus was late.  
  


***

  
It was midday when he finally arrived at the house. He knocked on the door and waited for his mother to answer it. When it swung open, he stared at her:  
  
At the grey streaks in her limp brown hair.  
  
At the tiny red blood vessels covering her nose.  
  
At her lips, pressed into a hard, thin line.  
  
Anywhere but her eyes – her cold, hard eyes, full of hatred and disgust.  
  
She regarded him coolly.  
  
“What do you want?” she snapped, but didn’t wait for an answer. She turned and stumbled away; leaving him standing awkwardly in the doorway of what had once been his home. He gingerly stepped inside and toed off his shoes, leaving them neatly by the door.  
  
He passed through the kitchen. It was almost exactly as he remembered it – clean and tidy, with a potted plant on the windowsill – but the smells of cooking that had once lingered in the air were gone. There were three days’ worth of empty pizza boxes lying next to the bin, and Merlin felt a wave of disappointment flow through him. It was like she’d stopped living.  
  
He went into the living room, where she was lying on the sofa watching crap TV and nursing a beer.  
  
She didn’t even like beer.  
  
“I just came back to get my phone charger then I’ll leave.” He mumbled. She didn’t say anything, only lifted the bottle to her lips to take a sip. He backed out of the room, anger and hurt swelling in his chest.  
  
He took the stairs two at a time, feet heavy on the wooden steps. His room was almost empty now, void of everything that had once made the room seem alive.  
  
He grabbed his charger, which was resting in a tangled pile by the far wall, and made his way back to the door. He would’ve left without saying goodbye, but she was waiting for him.  
  
“Why do you always leave so quickly?” she asked. Her voice was deeper than usual and her words were slurred. “You never come to visit, and when you do, you just leave again.” He swallowed and noticed for the first time that she was close to tears. He couldn’t help but take pity on her, anger forgotten for the moment.  
  
“I’ve got work to do, Mum, but I’ll come back soon, okay?” He said gently and tried to smile. She ran a hand over her face.  
  
“I’m just a crap mother.” She said wearily. He shook his head, but she carried on, getting louder as she spoke. “I can’t do anything right. I can’t cook, I can’t clean, I can’t hold a job! no-one takes the time to see me, not even my own son! What’s the point? What’s the fucking point, Merlin? Tell me!” By the end she was shouting at him, spit flying from her lips. She paused, chest heaving.  
  
“Mum, it’s not like that–” Merlin began quietly, but she interrupted.  
  
“Whatever, Merlin. Just get out.”  
  
So he left, walking out of the door and not looking back, eyes burning with unshed tears.  
  


***

  
He scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand to stop himself crying. He knew they looked puffy and red, and that the other people on the bus were looking at him strangely, but at that moment he just didn’t care.  
  
A few stops later he saw Gwen, and started to panic. He was seriously considering getting off at the next stop – it would only be a twenty minute wait for the next bus – but she’d already seen him and… _yeah, it looks like she’s walking over. Shit._  
  
He looked down at his hands, at a scrap of paper on the floor, out of the window. Anywhere but the pretty girl coming towards him. She had always been nice to him but he’d thrown it back in her face, and surely she wouldn’t bother again now.  
  
“Merlin?” He heard her calling his name but chose to ignore it. He was still entertaining some futile hope that she’d give up and walk away, leaving him to wallow in self–inflicted embarrassment.  
  
No such luck.  
  
“Merlin, is that you?” She was right next to him and he had no choice but to look up and meet her eyes.  
  
“Oh, er… um, yeah. It’s me. I mean, um. Hey?” He felt a blush spread across his cheeks.  
  
“Hi! I thought it was you but I wasn’t sure!” She smiled and it made him feel marginally better. Marginally.  
  
“Well, er…it is…me…” He trailed off, embarrassed.  
  
He looked over to where Gwen had left a friend – pale skinned with black hair that fell perfectly over her shoulders – standing uncomfortably next to a large woman with too many bags. Merlin thought he might have seen her hanging around school with Gwen sometimes. Gwen saw him looking.  
  
“Oh! Yeah, that’s Morgana over there. We were just on our way out for hot chocolate in town.” She paused and her eyes flicked to the girl, who nodded and smiled. “Would you like to come with us?”  
  
Merlin’s eyes widened. It had been months since someone had actually invited him anywhere. He didn’t really know how to act.  
  
“Do I want to…?” He asked in amazement. Gwen nodded, smiling. “Well, um. Yeah. I mean, yes, I would love to. Only if you’re sure though, I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything…” Gwen put her hand on his arm and looked him right in the eyes.  
  
“I want you to come, Merlin.” She smiled and he swallowed nervously, nodding. “Right! We’re getting off at the next stop.”  
  
They made their way to a Starbucks and ordered hot chocolates before settling onto the sofas and chatting. Gwen gushed about a boy named Lance who – Morgana said – she was _almost_ going out with. Gwen had blushed and replied that he probably didn’t like her. Morgana had glared and flicked a marshmallow at her.  
  
They talked for the best part of an hour – long enough that Merlin had begun to relax around them. They smiled at him and laughed at his jokes, and he laughed too. He almost forgot about his mum and Valiant and _Arthur_ , and he felt, for the first time in half a year, as if he actually had friends. It was nice.  
  
“We could go meet up with Arthur later, if you wanted?” Morgana suggested, taking a sip of hot chocolate. Merlin stiffened.  
  
“I, uhm. Well…” he stuttered, and Gwen looked at him sympathetically.  
  
“He seems a bit scary, but he’s fine really, don’t worry!” She playfully punched his shoulders but he shook his head.  
  
“Are you okay?” Gwen asked hesitantly.  
  
 _Yeah, great!_ he thought sourly. _I tried sleeping at my mum’s house last night for the first time in a few weeks but she drank too much and got angry again and she wasn’t any better in the morning and ended up throwing me out of the house. Then, for some stupid reason, I came here and ran into the most gorgeous boy to grace the Earth with his presence while I was crying and so I thoroughly embarrassed myself, then you guys found me and I’m fucking terrified I’m going to screw things up here too. So yeah, I’m great Thanks for asking._  
  
“Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just...tired.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. A couple of minutes later he made up an excuse and left.  
  


***

  
“What do you think of Merlin?” Morgana asked breezily, and Arthur grinned. She looked a thousand times better than she had in months. Gwen was obviously doing her good.  
  
“I– I think he–” Arthur started when he realised what she’d said, but she cut him off.  
  
“I saw him today. He looked upset and ran off when I suggested meeting up with you. Have you done anything?” She said it calmly but there was a hint of a threat in her voice. Arthur swallowed.  
  
“I tried to make him laugh. With a joke. About his ears. And. Well. He got upset, I think.” Arthur didn’t meet Morgana’s eyes. “But I didn’t mean to, and I tried to talk to him last week but I couldn’t find him and he didn’t show up on Friday when we were doing this book thing and then yesterday I bumped into him and he was _crying_ , Morgana. Honestly crying in the middle of town, and I asked if he wanted to talk about it and he said _no_ and ran away again.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I think I’ve fucked it up already.”  
  
Morgana raised her eyebrows. “Wow,” she said, a smile spreading over her face. “I didn’t realise you fancied him.”  
  
Arthur opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it. Then closed it. He frowned.  
  
Morgana winked, laughing as she left him.  
  
 _What the hell just happened?_  
  


***

  
The rest of Merlin’s weekend passed by uneventfully. He woke up on Sunday morning with two new friend requests on Facebook – Gwen Smith and Morgana Pendragon. He smiled as he accepted them; enjoying the warm feeling that blossomed in his stomach. He woke up on Monday in a good mood and – for the first time in over half a year – was looking forward to school.  
  
He was walking down a corridor when, out of nowhere, Arthur jogged up from behind and fell into step with him.  
  
“Hey,” he said, smiling. “Are you feeling better now?” His blond hair was messily swept to the side, his shirt was untucked, and Merlin could see a bit of his tie hanging out of his trouser pocket. Merlin’s heart began to beat faster. He fidgeted with his sleeve and began to walk faster, but Arthur kept pace easily and Merlin had no choice but to talk to him.  
  
“Oh, er, hi. Um, yeah. I’m good, thanks.” He took a deep breath. “How are you?” he looked briefly to the side and gave him a small, tight smile. Arthur beamed in response.  
  
“I’m great, thanks! I just wanted to ask if you were okay… Morgana said she’d met up with you, and I wanted to make sure _she_ hadn’t been the one to upset you.” It was said as a joke, and his voice was low enough that no-one else could hear what he’d said, but Merlin couldn’t help but look around in panic. Arthur noticed and playfully punched his arm. “Calm down,” he laughed, making Merlin’s cheeks go a little pink. “Seriously though, are you okay?”  
  
Merlin opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before he answered. “It wasn’t Morgana, don’t worry.” He tried to turn away but Arthur stepped in front of him and leaned in, voice kind and gentle.  
  
“Whatever it is, you can tell me, Really. I know it’s got to be hard changing schools and you probably miss your friends but…you can tell me.” Arthur looked at him earnestly. Merlin swallowed and pulled nervously on the sleeve of his school jumper.  
  
“Thank you, but… it’s nothing.” Arthur looked at him thoughtfully. It was clear that they both knew it was a lie but, thankfully, Arthur didn’t press him for an answer. Instead he took a step back and casually leant against the wall.  
  
“Are you coming to do the book sorting thing again on Friday? You didn’t come last week.” Merlin nodded. “Cool. Listen, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you later!” Arthur waved as he walked back down the corridor, and it made something flutter in Merlin’s chest.  
  
 _Shit_.  
  
He waited until Arthur definitely couldn’t see him before letting his head fall against the door of his locker.  
  
His heart was still beating too fast, and he was shaking a little bit when Morgana came up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Are you okay, Merlin?” she asked and Merlin huffed out a laugh.  
  
“I’m good thanks. How was your weekend?”  
  
“Since we spoke last night? Pretty good, thank you.” Merlin felt his ears heat up in embarrassment but Morgana just laughed, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “You have maths now, right?” Merlin nodded. “Let’s go!” She pulled him along by the hand – _When did we start holding hands?_ Merlin thought in alarm – towards the maths block, where Gwen was waiting for them.  
  


***

  
Morgana seemed to have made it her goal to introduce Merlin to everyone in the school in one week. He was introduced to Gwen and Morgana’s friends, who were surprisingly lovely and not nearly as scary as he had first assumed they would be, and he spent his lunch breaks sitting nervously amidst girls at they chatted about Gwen’s imminent relationship with Lance and the way Merlin went pink if they all looked at him at once.  
  
He felt better, too. He felt happy. He wasn’t as withdrawn and he actually talked to people. _Enjoyed_ talking to people.  
  
By Friday afternoon his head was buzzing with so many different names and faces that he had almost forgotten about sorting out the books.  
  
Luckily, Arthur was leaning against Merlin’s locker. He straightened up when he saw Merlin coming towards him, hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder.  
  
“Merlin!” he called, waving. Merlin smiled but kept his hands firmly in his pockets.  
  


***

  
As they sorted through the books Arthur asked about his day and who he’d met and promised that he would introduce Merlin to his friends soon.  
  
“They’ll like you,” he said, and when Merlin looked like he was going to protest, Arthur added, “No really, they’re not like some of the idiots around here.” Merlin swallowed, because that confirmed that Arthur had heard about Valiant.  
  
“They sound cool,” Merlin replied nervously, running his fingers up and down the spine of an old, leather–bound book of poems.  
  
“Well, they _are_ friends with me,” Arthur joked, grinning as Merlin chuckled in amusement.  
  
They talked for a long time – long enough that Arthur could see Merlin relaxing slightly. Arthur was as charming as he knew how to be, telling jokes and touching Merlin’s arm.  
  
He didn’t know when his view of Merlin had changed. When he had gone from that quiet, skinny, almost odd–looking yet attractive boy, to someone he cared about. Someone he cared about as more than just a friend.  
  
He suspected it had been when he’d seen Merlin, broken and alone in town, with no-one to help him. Arthur wanted to help him.  
  
“You know, Merlin,” he began, “you can tell me what it is that upset you on Saturday.” Merlin sighed.  
  
“It’s nothing, really–” he started, but Arthur cut him off.  
  
“No, it’s not nothing.” Arthur tried to catch Merlin’s eye but he looked away. Arthur took a step closer. "Tell me…please. I want to help.”  
  
“Arthur…I can’t.” Merlin’s voice was hoarse and broken.  
  
Arthur looked hurt again, and Merlin wanted to stop him looking like that but… How could he confess everything to someone he barely knew? There had been Will before but now…  
  
 _Now there’s no-one who cares_.  
  
“I just…I just can’t.” Merlin’s voice cracked on the last word and he had to fight back tears. _God, this is mortifying!_ He thought in despair, feeling himself spiralling into a panic attack. It was like there was a band around his chest, squeezing, leaving him unable to breathe, but suddenly Arthur was right in front of him with his hands on Merlin’s bony shoulders.  
  
“Okay, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I’m sorry I asked,” Merlin took a deep breath and tried to smile – to act as if there was nothing wrong. Arthur laughed at his attempt and carefully pulled Merlin into a hug.  
  
 _He’s warm_ , Merlin decided after he got over the shock, _and he smells very nice_. He leaned in closer, pressing his cheek to Arthur’s neck as he fought to control his breathing.  
  
“This is a very one–sided hug,” Arthur said after a while. Merlin bit his lip and carefully lifted his hands so they rested lightly on Arthur’s back. Arthur hummed before giving him a quick squeeze and pulling back to look at Merlin, who was very red.  
  
“You blush a lot, don’t you?” Arthur commented as he began sorting through the books again. Merlin nodded and went even redder. The blond laughed and bumped their shoulders together.  
  
They worked in silence for a while, but Arthur felt like he couldn’t stop talking to Merlin.  
  
“So what are your favourite subjects?” He asked, turning to look as Merlin blushed again. _What’s there to blush about now?_ He wondered, but didn’t say anything.  
  
“I like science and maths,” Merlin said after a while. Arthur hummed.  
  
“I’m crap at science. Especially chemistry. Professor Kilgharrah suggested I get a tutor,” Arthur said, pulling a face.  
  
“I could help you, if you wanted…?” Merlin suggested, then widened his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe that he’d just offered. Arthur didn’t give him a chance to take it back.  
  
“That would be awesome. Thanks mate,” He grinned, turning back to the books.  
  
He was sure he saw Merlin smile.  
  
The thing was, Merlin was nice. He was always nervous and too scared to say anything but Arthur knew he was nice. He was good–looking in a big–eared, messy–haired kind of way, and he was funny, when he plucked up the courage to speak. He was nice to be around and Arthur was sure he’d be nice to kiss too.  
  
“Oh, I was wondering,” Arthur began after a minute, nervous for no reason. “My friend Gwaine’s having a party soon and asked if you wanted to come.” That wasn’t quite true. Gwaine had said that Arthur could bring anyone he wanted, and it wasn’t like any of his friends expected him to bring a girl.  
  
“Oh, Gwaine’s the one…with the hair, right?” Merlin asked anxiously. Arthur laughed.  
  
“Yeah, that’s him.” _The one with the hair_. Arthur would have to tell Gwaine about that.  
  
“Oh, er…” Merlin stuttered, looking a little bit frightening. “I, uhm. No, thank you. Thank you but no.” Arthur pouted.  
  
“Why not?” he asked, resting his chin on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin shrugged him off.  
  
“I just don’t want to.”  
  
“But why?” He frowned. “And don’t you dare give me that crap about just not wanting to.”  
  
“I don’t really like crowded places.” Merlin huffed reluctantly and Arthur was momentarily quiet.  
  
“You could always sit outside, you know. I’d keep you company.” Merlin looked over and Arthur smiled at him, encouraging. There was a pause before Merlin spoke.  
  
“I’ll think about it.” He mumbled and Arthur grinned triumphantly. They went back to working in companionable silence for several minutes.  
  
“ _Mer_ lin,” Arthur began again, pulling a particularly dusty book from the bookshelf. Merlin looked up. “You’re not asthmatic or allergic to dust are you?”  
  
“No, Gaius wouldn’t let me do thi–aah!” He reeled backwards as Arthur blew a cloud of dust into his face. The pile of books he’d been holding tumbled to the floor as he pressed the heels of his hands into his watering eyes. “You dick!” he shouted, nervousness apparently forgotten as he reached towards Arthur. He easily dodged Merlin’s flailing arm and went to stand behind him.  
  
“Boo!” he whispered, and moved again as Merlin turned and reached for him.  
  
“Stay still, you prat!” Merlin huffed and Arthur laughed. Merlin opened his eyes, saw Arthur smirking in front of him and launched himself forward. Arthur let Merlin grab him and push him against a table, knocking over a pile of previously sorted books. “I’m going to sit on you until you…until…until you…give up!” he shouted triumphantly as he forced Arthur against another bookshelf. Arthur simply raised his eyebrow.  
  
“Is that so?” he asked as he knocked Merlin’s legs from under him, sending him completely off balance. He would have fallen if Arthur hadn’t caught him. He lowered Merlin, still struggling, to the floor and held him down as he straddled his stomach. He pinned both of Merlin’s arms above his head with one hand and used the other to poke him in the ribs. “What was that you were saying about sitting on me?” Merlin gasped for breath but refused to give in. Arthur poked harder.  
  
“Oh my god!” Merlin puffed in between bouts of tickling. Arthur smirked at him.  
  
“Ready to give up yet?” Merlin shook his head. Arthur grinned and let go of both of his arms in favour of more intense tickling.  
  
“Stop, stop!” Merlin shouted, laughing. Arthur paused, hands poised above the flat stomach beneath him. There was a moment of stillness before Merlin smirked slyly and a book collided with the side of Arthur’s head.  
  
He was momentarily stunned, and Merlin took the opportunity to squirm out from under him. He scrambled to stand up, but Arthur grabbed one of his feet and pulled him back down, sitting on his legs.  
  
“That, Merlin Emrys, was cheating!” He declared, punctuating each syllable with a prod to his stomach. Merlin stuck his tongue out and giggled at Arthur’s affronted expression.  
  
“Gerrof!” he shouted, and tried squirming out of Arthur’s grasp. He gave up after several minutes.  
  
“God, you’re skinny!” Arthur remarked, dragging his finger down the ladder of Merlin’s ribcage. Merlin blushed and pushed himself out from under the larger boy, who, this time, let him go without a fight. They sat opposite each other, breathing heavily, for several minutes before they remembered that they had a job to do. Shakily they helped each other up.  
  
That night they finished sorting the books.  
  


***

  
“What if he didn’t mean it?” Arthur said, pushing his food around his plate. Gwaine’s head snapped up.  
  
“What’s that?” He said through a mouthful of potato. Arthur grimaced.  
  
“Merlin,”  
  
“Not that again, you twit,” Gwaine sighed. “If he said he’ll tutor you, he’ll tutor you.”  
  
“But what if he just said it and doesn’t actually want to?”  
  
“He didn’t, for fuck’s sake.” They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Arthur looking despondently at his lunch and Gwaine smirking. “You really like him, don’t you?”  
  
Arthur felt a blush creep up his neck. “What? No, I–”  
  
“Cut the crap – I know you,” Gwaine grinned, “You like him!”  
  
Arthur groaned, letting his head hit the table with a thump. “You’re the worst mate ever.”  
Gwaine laughed, pushing back from the table. “I’ll see you around, Blondie.” Arthur didn’t react.  
  
He stayed like that for several minutes; eyes closed and breathing slow, thinking about dark hair and blue eyes and cheekbones and chemistry. He was beginning to doze off when he heard someone – _Merlin!_ – behind him. He sat up quickly, blinking at the sudden light, and turned around to see–  
  
Someone who was decidedly not Merlin.  
  
He sighed heavily, standing and making his way quickly away from the table. He didn’t think about where he was walking, only realising when he was through the door of the library.  
  
He couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his face at the sight of Merlin hunched over a book, chewing on his bottom lip, obviously deep in thought. Arthur almost considered leaving, but something stopped him. Probably the same _something_ that had led him there.  
  
He threw himself into the chair next to Merlin and leaned over to see what he was reading.  
  
“That’s an a-level book,” he said stupidly, and a light blush spread over Merlin’s cheeks.  
  
“I find it interesting,” he said quietly, shrugging as he shoved it into his tatty school bag.  
  
“That’s really cool,” Arthur said, smiling reassuringly at Merlin. “I wish I could understand all that stuff.”  
  
Merlin frowned. “Really? Isn’t it, you know, nerdy or something?”  
  
“I think being smart is really attractive.”  
  
Merlin’s face got _very_ red, _very_ fast. He looked down at his hands, which were twisting nervously in the hem of his baggy school jumper. An awkward silence settled between them.  
  
“I was wondering if you were still up for chemistry tutoring?” Arthur asked quickly, feeling a hot blush creeping up his own neck. He smiled nervously. “If you want – you don’t have to.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes widened and he leaned backwards, away from Arthur. He didn’t say anything for a long time. _That’s it_ , Arthur thought, _I’ve screwed it up._ He was about to stand up and leave when Merlin spoke.  
  
“I’d love to,” he said quietly, a small smile playing on his lips as the blush on his cheeks deepened. Arthur grinned.  
  
“Thanks mate!” He put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, squeezing slightly before drawing back. “Do you think you could help me with some stuff now? I’ve got chemistry next lesson.” He pulled a face and Merlin chuckled. Arthur felt something warm tingling through his body.  
  
He reached down and pulled his chemistry book out of his bag, opening it to the correct page and spreading it across his knees. He glanced over at Merlin, who nodded, before explaining what the problem was.  
  
Halfway through the explanation Merlin stopped him.  
  
“You’re making this harder for yourself,” he said quietly. “You could just take this,” he pointed to the book, “and stick it in the equation, rather than all that dividing and multiplying nonsense.” His voice was quiet, but more confident than Arthur had ever heard it.  
  
“Thank you,” Arthur said warmly. Merlin went back to looking at his hands as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Hey, listen,” Arthur began, nudging Merlin with his shoulder. “Will you come to Gwaine’s?”  
  
“I already said I couldn’t,”  
  
“You said you didn’t want to. I thought you might have changed your mind since then?”  
  
Merlin shook his head sadly. “Sorry.”  
  
Arthur sighed. “It’s okay just…let me know if you want to, yeah?” Merlin nodded, and Arthur stood up. “Thanks for this, Merlin. It means a lot,” he flashed him a smile before making his way out of the library just as the bell went.  
  


***

  
Merlin sat, dumbstruck, for several long seconds before picking up his things and walking to his classroom.  
  
 _Did I just spend a lunch–time with Arthur?_  
  


***

  
Arthur couldn’t help but smile as he walked out of the library, even though Merlin had rejected the invitation to Gwaine’s again. He couldn’t help but smile during his final lesson, even though the Chemistry test was hard. He couldn’t help but smile during football practice, even though it was pissing down with rain. He couldn’t bring himself to care.  
  
“What are you so happy about, Pendragon?” someone sneered. Arthur looked up from his PE kit to see Valiant looking down at him, a stupid expression on his face.  
  
“None of your business,” he growled. Valiant scowled and moved away, but Gwaine came to take his place.  
  
“It went well then?” He asked, smirking. Arthur threw a sock at him – which missed – and pointedly didn’t answer the question. “Did you have library sex?”  
  
This time it was a shoe and it didn’t miss.  
  
“Ow, you fuckwit, that hurt!” Gwaine huffed, throwing the shoe back at Arthur. “Seriously though, what did he do to make you so happy?”  
  
“We went through some chemistry problems.”  
  
“And that’s code for?”  
  
“Nothing, you dick. He helped me with some Unit 3 stuff.”  
  
“Oh. Okay. I understand.” Gwaine said, though he didn’t look like he understood at all. “And you’re sure he didn’t give you a blowjob?”  
  
Arthur was about to throw another item of his kit when Valiant appeared out of nowhere.  
  
“What did he just say?”  
  
“Nothing,” Arthur said quickly, ducking his head to tie up his shoelaces.  
  
“Did he say you were gay?”  
  
“No, he didn–” Arthur started to say, but Gwaine cut him off.  
  
“What of it?” He said loudly, walking to stand directly in front of Valiant. Arthur grabbed his arm, trying to pull him back or tell him somehow that _this_ _was not okay_ , but Gwaine shrugged him off. “He’s our captain, what’re you going to do?”  
  
Valiant squared his shoulders and took a step towards Arthur, easily knocking Gwaine aside. “So you’re a poof?” he asked, voice deceptively calm. Arthur blinked and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He hadn’t wanted the football team to find out, and if they’d had to…not like this. Not standing around in anticipation of a fight between him and Valiant, mouths fallen open in shock. Arthur glared at Gwaine, who didn’t even have the decency to look contrite.  
  
Arthur took a step forwards, raising his head.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
There was a sharp intake of breath and, for one awful moment, Arthur thought Valiant was actually going to punch him. Instead he simply looked at Arthur’s kit.  
  
“You can’t change in here anymore.”  
  
“Yes he bloody well can!” Gwaine shouted, moving so that he was chest–to–chest with Valiant.  
  
“Fuck off,” he growled, trying unsuccessfully to shove Gwaine out of the way. “I said fuck off!” Valiant shoved him hard, sending him stumbling back a few steps, and Arthur knew he had to intervene.  
  
“Valiant, stop it,” he said, his authority clear. “I’m your captain and you are a member of my team. You will respect everyone, no matter their race, social status, or sexuality. Do I make myself clear?” Valiant didn’t move, so he carried on. “I will continue to change in here, and if you have a problem with that, you can leave the team. There are several students who would jump at the chance to play for the school. But let me tell you this: I have _never_ made a move on any of you, nor have I wanted to. Whatever it is you are worried about, you don’t have to be.” By the end he was addressing the whole room. Several people nodded. One or two smiled encouragingly. Some didn’t react at all.  
  
Valiant clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything more, moving away sullenly. Slowly the room filled with conversation again, though it was strained. The news that the captain was gay hung heavy in the air.  
  
Arthur finished changing slowly and walked over to his friends, who were waiting by the door. They were quiet, and some refused to meet his eyes. Arthur sighed.  
  
“Listen, I meant it when I said I haven’t fancied any of you,” he said sincerely. “Footballers aren’t my type.”  
  
“What is your type then, Princess? Skinny indie science geeks?” Gwaine slapped him on the back as he passed, winking. Arthur’s face grew hot.  
  
“What?” Leon asked, confused. The others mirrored his expression. “Who does Arthur like?”  
  
Gwaine grinned wolfishly, ducking around the corner and out of sight. They turned back to Arthur, who had turned red by now. He looked around at them: Lance, Elyan, Leon and Percy, all interested, with hints of smiles on their faces. Arthur felt relief flow through his body like a wave, because he knew that they were going to be okay.  
  
“So, who is he?” Lance asked gently, placing a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur took a deep breath.  
  
“Merlin.”  
  


***

  
“C’mon Merlin,” Gwen whined, grabbing his hand as he made to get up. “Just tell us!”  
  
Merlin groaned but stayed where he was. He knew that any attempts would be useless against Gwen, Freya _and_ Morgana.  
  
He’d been on his way to the library – intending to spend another lunch time in quiet comfort, surrounded by books – when they’d cornered him and dragged him to their lunch table. Conversation had started out innocently enough, but it soon became clear that they’d wanted to know _every little detail about him._  
  
“So how’s your love life?” Gwen had asked innocently.  
  
“Don’t have one,” he’d muttered, earning him a sympathetic look from Freya. He liked Freya.  
  
“Well maybe not now, but surely before,” Gwen had smiled. He’d tried to explain that, no, he’d never had a love life, but they didn’t listen. “Any girlfriends?”  
  
“Nope,”  
  
“…boyfriends?” she’d asked with a wink and – curse his body, for betraying him now – he’d blushed a bright scarlet.  
  
“Oh!” Freya looked surprised, and…disappointed? He must have been mistaken, but didn’t have time to dwell on it.  
  
“So tell us about your last boyfriend then,” Morgana said breezily, smiling kindly.  
  
“I’m serious. I’ve never been with anyone else. Ever.”  
  
Gwen’s smile faltered. “Never?”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“ _Really_ , Gwen,” he said, exasperation creeping into his tone. Did she have to keep repeating it? It had been embarrassing enough the first time.  
  
“So who was your first kiss then?”  
  
Merlin blushed again, his flushed cheeks even darker. Gwen’s mouth fell open.  
  
“Oh, Merlin!” She cooed, putting a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll find someone soon enough.” She smiled sympathetically, and Morgana snorted.  
  
“Way to make him feel like an idiot, Gwen,” she grinned. Gwen looked affronted.  
  
“No, no, don’t worry. I’m fine. I mean, yeah sure, it’s embarrassing, being fifteen and not having kissed anyone, but I’ve lived with it for this long, I can go a little bit longer.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  
  
There was an awkward silence when Merlin looked despondently at his uneaten food. Gwen twisted her hands nervously, and Freya repeatedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Raising an eyebrow at the lot of them, Morgana put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands.  
  
“Who is it you like then?”  
  
Merlin’s eyes flickered to the table that Arthur and some of his friends were eating.  
  
“Lance?” Morgana narrowed her eyes. “You like Lance?” There was a sharp intake of breath from Gwen, but she quickly composed herself.  
  
“Who’s Lance?” Merlin asked in a small voice. He looked back at the table, wondering who this _Lance_ was.  
  
“He’s tall, with dark hair, and he’s quite tanned and amazing, really,” Gwen sighed, then blushed.  
  
“Oh! Your Lance! No, I don’t like him. He’s all yours, Gwen,” he laughed, ducking as she tried to swat him over the head with a book.  
  
“It’s not like that,” she said, pouting a bit. “We’re just friends.”  
  
Merlin’s mouth dropped open, because they clearly weren’t _just friends_ , but Morgana gave him a look, and he decided it was better to drop it.  
  
“Gwaine?”  
  
“You’re persistent, aren’t you? No, not Gwaine. I don’t like any of th–”  
  
“Arthur?”  
  
Merlin tried to make himself look normal, but he couldn’t. He widened his eyes and nearly fell off his chair. Immediately, he felt his face and neck heat up in a truly spectacular blush.  
  
“N–no, I don’t like Arthur–”  
  
“Oh my god, that’s adorable!” Gwen squealed, bouncing on her chair. Morgana grinned, slapping him on the back.  
  
“No, you aren’t listening, I–” he tried again, but they didn’t pay attention. He put his head in his hands.  
  
“Aw, c’mon Merlin, there’s no need to be like that,” Gwen teased, poking him in the side. “Arthur is pretty gorgeous.”  
  
“I’ve got to go,” he said, pushing back from the table. “Sorry, and thank you. See you later.” He walked off before they could say anything.  
  


***

Lance caught up to Gwen on the way to maths. She’d been walking slowly when Lance came up from behind her, touching her arm softly.  
  
“Hey,” he said breathlessly, smiling. She couldn’t help but smile back – Lance always made her feel better.  
  
“Hi Lance.What’s up?”  
  
“I don’t want to go to history. It’s so boring!” Gwen laughed, and he did too. She felt her insides melt a bit, but something was off. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and she looked up at him questioningly. “Is everything alright?”  
  
Lance was silent for a moment, and then his smile faded into a contemplative frown. “Arthur came out today. After football. He’s gay.”  
  
“What?” Gwen said, shocked. She and Arthur had dated for a while the year before. Their relationship had come to a mutual end after three strained months and, somehow, they had remained almost–friends. “But– that– he–” she stuttered, coming to a stop in the corridor.  
  
Belatedly, she remembered Merlin earlier that day. “That’s wonderful!”  
  
Lance frowned, obviously confused.  
  
“Oh! Well, it’s just that...” She glanced over at him, then laughed at his puzzled expression. “I have a, uh, friend, and today he said that he liked Arthur. It’s really cute, actually. Maybe we could set them up?” she asked hopefully. She would do anything to make Merlin happy.  
  
Lance’s face fell. “Arthur already likes someone.”  
  
“Oh.” Gwen sighed, knowing how unlikely it was that they would like each other. “Could we still try?”  
  
“Do you think that it would work?”  
  
“Well, Arthur’s always been fickle. He’ll change his mind about this person soon enough, won’t he?”  
  
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him look so smitten with someone before,” Lance said, looking thoughtful. Gwen sighed again.  
  
“I just want him to be happy, you know?”  
  
“Who, Arthur?”  
  
“No, Merlin, my friend.”  
  
Lance widened his eyes.  
  
“Hold on—did you say _Merlin_? As in the new guy?”  
  
Gwen frowned. “Yeah…”  
  
Lance grinned, grabbing her arm. “Merlin! That’s the guy Arthur likes!”  
  
Gwen couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face. She squealed, jumping up and down in her excitement.  
  
“Oh my gosh, this is brilliant!” She threw her arms around his neck, but pulled back sharply. “Sorry, I–” she said quickly, biting her lip.  
  
“No, it’s fine,” Lance said, blushing as he ran a hand through his hair. Gwen noticed that it was getting quite long now. “It’s nice.” He smiled, and _God, he’s gorgeous._  
  
“What should we do about them?” she asked, changing the subject.  
  
“I don’t know. Arthur looked ready to throw himself off a cliff for the guy.”  
  
Gwen giggled excitedly then looked at her watch. “Shit, I’ve got to go but…I’ll try and talk to Merlin, yeah?”  
  
Lance nodded, pulling her into another hug and squeezing gently. “I’ll talk to you later, Gwen.”  
  
Gwen smiled then started walking quickly towards the maths block in a better mood than she’d ever thought possible.  
  


***

  
She was only a couple of minutes late and managed to sneak in unnoticed. Gwen sat down in the chair next to a startled Merlin.  
  
“Hi Merlin,” she said cheerily, already opening her book to copy down the notes she’d missed.  
  
“Hello Gwen,” he replied, not meeting her eyes. “How are you?”  
  
“I’m okay. But listen, I was talking to Lance just now. Guess what?”  
  
“He asked you out?” Merlin asked cheekily, and Gwen hit him with her textbook.  
  
“No! You idiot, he doesn’t _like_ me like that.”  
  
“Gwen,” he sighed, turning to face her properly. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?”  
  
Gwen blushed. “Don’t be silly, Merlin. I have something important to tell you.”  
  
“Your imminent relationship with him _is_ important.”  
  
“Shut up. Arthur’s gay.”  
  
Merlin froze. “W...what?”  
  
“That’s not the best bit,” she grinned, grabbing his shoulder. “He _likes_ you, too.”  
  
Merlin’s face fell. “No, he doesn’t.”  
  
“Yes he does! I talked to Lance and–”  
  
“Lance was just being nice or something. There’s no way he could like me.” He tried to turn back to his work, but Gwen stopped him.  
  
“No, he really does, Merlin. Why won’t you believe it?”  
  
“Because he’s made it obvious he doesn’t.”  
  
“But he–”  
  
“Gwen, please. Drop it.” He turned back to his work and this time, she didn’t try and stop him.

  
***

**Text from “Gwen Smith”:**  
  
 _He didn’t believe me when I said that Arthur liked him :( xx_  
  
 **Text from “Lance <3”:**  
  
 _Why not? Xx_  
  
 **Text from “Gwen Smith”:**  
  
 _I don’t know. I’ve never met someone who thinks so little of himself. It’s really sad :’( xxx_  
  
 **Text from “Lance <3”:**  
  
 _Should I try and talk to him? Xxx_  
  
 **Text from “Gwen Smith”:**  
  
 _“That would be great – thank you! :D xxx_  
  
 **Text from “Lance <3”:**  
  
 _If you want me to do anything else just ask xxx_  
  


***

  
“Hey, you’re Merlin, right?”  
  
Merlin turned his head too fast, and pain blossomed in his neck.  
  
“Fuck,” he hissed, then looked up at the person who’d spoken to him. His mouth fell open. This guy was a _god_. “Y–yeah, that’s me.”  
  
“Hi, I’m Lance.”  
  
 _Oh. Of course._  
  
“Gwen’s boyfriend?”  
  
Lance coloured, shaking his head rapidly.  
  
“No, no. If only! No, we’re just friends.”  
  
Merlin frowned. “Why?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
Merlin blushed. “Erm, never mind.”  
  
“Anyway, I’m a friend of Arthur’s,” Lance said, smiling as he sat down.  
  
Merlin eyed him hesitantly, not knowing whether to smile or say something in response. “O…kay?”  
  
Lance only gave a soft chuckle. “I just…Gwen mentioned it to you, didn’t she? That Arthur likes you?”  
  
Merlin frowned. He’d thought that people here would be above elaborate jokes like this, but apparently not.  
  
“Sorry, I think you have the wrong person.”  
  
Lance’s eyes widened in alarm. “No! No, he really does! You should have seen the way he talked about you, he–”  
  
“Please stop it,” Merlin said quietly, no longer looking at the taller boy. “I _know_ he doesn’t like me.”  
  
“He’s gay. He came out after football yesterday and told us that he liked you. I swear, Merlin.”  
  
“Please, Lance. Don’t.” He turned away, moving to face the window. Thankfully, Lance seemed to get the message and got up before finally walking away.  
  
Merlin let his head fall onto the desk.  
  
 _Why do people do this?_  
  


***

  
“No Arthur, I’m serious. Just ask him! Gwen says he likes you.”  
  
Arthur turned away from the window to look at Lance. “Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes, Arthur.”  
  
Arthur ran a hand through his hair, trying to push his fringe out of his eyes. _What if he says no?_ he thought nervously, then frowned. _Man the fuck up. Swallow your pride and ask him the fuck out, godamnit._  
  
“Okay.” He got up and walked towards the door. “I’ll go now.”  
  


***

  
The walk to the library was fast – _too_ fast – and Arthur was sitting opposite Merlin before he had any idea what to say to him.  
  
“Hello?” Merlin asked in a small voice, looking up from the book he was reading.  
  
“Hey,” Arthur grinned, pulling the book out of Merlin’s hands and laying it next to him. “Have you thought any more about that party this weekend?”  
  
Merlin started to refuse but Arthur cut him off. “C’mon Merlin, please! I really want you to go with me.”  
  
Merlin looked shocked; his eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. Arthur grinned.  
  
“I–I, uhm. I think…” Merlin started then composed himself. “Are you sure? Does your friend – Gwaine? – want me there?”  
  
Reaching over, Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Of course he wants you there. _I_ want you there.” He squeezed lightly before returning his hand to his lap. “So will you come?”  
  
Merlin hesitated, unsure. Going to a party would mean talking to people, something he wasn’t comfortable with. However, Arthur was using that voice again, the one Merlin could never, ever refuse. His resolve crumbled, and he nodded, thinking that _surely it couldn’t be_ that _bad_. Arthur grinned as he pushed back from the table. “That’s great. Listen, I’ve got to run but I’ll see you on Saturday, yeah? I’ll send you the details on facebook.”

  
***

  
Gwaine’s parties, Merlin realised belatedly, were synonymous for getting drunk and making out with as many people as you could.  
  
He’d arrived on time, after walking the short distance from his own house to Gwaine’s. He was greeted by a burly looking rugby player, who pushed a can of beer into Merlin’s hand, slapped him on the back and walked away. Merlin had stood, stunned, for a moment, before shutting the door behind him and making his way into the house.  
  
It was noisy and crowded and _hot_ , and for a second Merlin couldn’t breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in on him and his chest was tightening and _oh god, I need to get out of here,_ he thought, but then Arthur came out of nowhere and wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered him towards the fridge.  
  
“You can’t drink this shit!” he shouted over the loud, thumping music, taking the unopened can out of his hand and replacing it with a bottle of _something_ that was presumably classier and of better quality. Not that Merlin would be able to tell the difference.  
  
“Thanks,” Merlin said, possibly too quietly, but Arthur seemed to get the message anyway. He grinned, all white teeth and shiny blond hair, and Merlin had no choice but to smile back, small and shy. He took in Arthur’s outfit – a shirt and trousers combination – and began cursing his decision to wear skinny jeans and a t–shirt when Arthur leaned over.  
  
“You look nice,” he said, loud enough that only Merlin could hear, then stooped down to the mini fridge to get a beer for himself. Merlin flushed scarlet and stammered out his thanks. Arthur simply grinned and took a step backwards. “Wait here, yeah?” he shouted, then started making his way across the room. Merlin leaned against the wall and took a cautious sip from the bottle as he watched Arthur walk away.  
  


***

  
Ten minutes later Arthur still hadn’t come back, and the familiar feeling of idiocy came crashing back down on Merlin. He finished his beer and shuffled towards an empty sofa, folding himself into one corner, begging not to be seen by anyone.  
  
He stayed like that for some time, watching as people got more and more drunk, then shout that, _Of course we’re going to dance to this song, who doesn’t like The Funky Chicken?_ And continue to bump and grind against each other until someone fell over.  
  
Somewhere around midnight he spotted Lance and Gwen dancing in a corner. She had her arms around his neck with her head pressed into his shoulder, and he was looking at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.  
  
Merlin quickly looked away, but he couldn’t stop the dull ache that blossomed in his chest.  
  
“It’s sickening, isn’t it?” Merlin jumped at Morgana’s voice, and wondered how she could have come so close without him realising. He gave a shaky laugh, taking the proffered can of beer from her hand.  
  
“No, I think it’s great that they’re finally together,” he said, looking back over to where Lance was whispering something into Gwen’s ear. Morgana hummed, looking across the room. Merlin followed her gaze and blinked in surprise. “You like Leon?”  
  
Morgana turned to face him sharply and Merlin cringed backwards. Her face softened. “Yeah, I like him, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know who I am.”  
  
“Don’t be silly, Morgana. Everyone knows who you are! You’re beautiful and funny and amazing and he probably thinks you’re out of his league.”  
  
Morgana smiled. “Oh Merlin.” She sighed, leaning against his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re not straight?”  
  
Merlin laughed as he opened the can and tipped his head back, taking a long, slow sip. His head was already spinning and he laughed some more. He felt _good_ , for the first time in months, though, distantly, he knew it was only because of the alcohol, and that he should slow down. After seeing the state of his mother, he was cautious about drinking, but he didn’t want to seem like any more of a loser than he already was.  
  
Morgana sat up. “I’m going to go and talk to Gwen,” she said, “but have fun, okay? Enjoy yourself.” She got up, smoothed down her skirt and walked away. Merlin sighed, content to just sit for a while with his beer.  
  


***

  
It was coming up to half past twelve when he spotted Arthur. Their eyes locked and Arthur grinned, changed his direction, and came to stand in front of Merlin.  
  
“You having a good time?” he asked, offering _another_ beer. Merlin nodded, blushing when their fingers brushed on the bottle. “So what’ve you been up to since I left?”  
  
“You didn’t come back,” Merlin said quietly, then wished he could take it back. Apparently, his brain–to–mouth filter stopped working with the onset of the fuzzy, alcohol induced warmth. “Shit, never mind.”  
  
Arthur frowned. “You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”  
  
“Well, you did say ‘wait here’, so I assumed you’d be coming back.” _Shit shit shit._  
  
“Fuck. Merlin, I’m sorry. People kept talking to me and…I’ve had quite a lot to drink. I thought you’d be okay. There are loads of people here, I thought you could just mingle or something, you know?”  
  
Merlin frowned. “Arthur, you do realise that I have the social capabilities of a fence, don’t you?”  
  
Arthur threw his head back and laughed, and Merlin couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle as well. Arthur caught his eye. “Hey, why don’t you laugh more often? You have a gorgeous smile.”  
  
Merlin’s breath caught in his throat. “I– I don’t–” he began, but Arthur cut him off.  
  
“Let’s go get another drink, yeah?” He pulled Merlin up by the hand – _we’re holding hands!_ Merlin thought in dizzy confusion – and dragged him towards the fridge again, despite the fact that Merlin’s bottle was still full. “Another beer? Or something stronger?” Arthur asked, waggling his eyebrows. Merlin laughed, and Arthur gave him a look as if to say _there’s that gorgeous smile again_. Merlin blushed and mumbled that he didn’t mind. Arthur grabbed the vodka and a carton of tropical juice.  
  
He took Merlin’s hand again and lead him outside, where they sat on the steps and looked blankly at the bottle.  
  
“We forgot to bring a glass,” Merlin said eventually, smile creeping onto his face again. Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
“Right,” he said, getting up again. “I’ll be back in two minutes. And I really will be back this time, don’t worry.” He grinned and set off at a jog for the kitchen.  
  
Merlin lay back on the stone steps and closed his eyes, trying to stop the spinning in his head.  
  
 _Arthur took me outside. Arthur held my hand. Arthur said I’m gorgeous._  
  
He grinned, and let his eyes fall open to the sight of Arthur standing above him. He didn’t scream, but it was a near thing.  
  
“Oh my god,” he hissed, sitting up and clutching at his chest. “You scared me!”  
  
Arthur laughed, taking a large gulp from the glass of _something_ he’d brought back from the kitchen, and passed it down to Merlin.  
  
Merlin’s eyes watered as he took a small mouthful – this stuff was fucking _strong_ – but took another sip anyway. He winced as it burned down his throat and Arthur laughed, moving to sit so close to Merlin that their thighs were pressed against each other. Merlin shivered.  
  
“Are you cold?” Arthur asked, frowning. Merlin didn’t know what to say – telling Arthur that his presence made him shiver was out of the question – so he nodded dumbly, then widened his eyes as Arthur started shrugging his shirt off, leaving him in nothing but a tight, white t–shirt.  
  
“N–no, you don’t have to do that–” Merlin tried, but Arthur threw it over Merlin’s thin shoulders, leaning in so close that he could smell his aftershave, and suddenly, Merlin couldn’t speak at all.  
  
Arthur didn’t move away. Merlin could see that that Arthur’s pupils were blown wide with alcohol, and he barely had time to wonder just how drunk Arthur was before there was a hand on back of Merlin’s neck, gently twisting his hand in the soft, dark hair.  
  
Merlin’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Arthur,” he breathed, head spinning.  
  
Arthur leaned in.  
  


***

  
Arthur hadn’t set out with the objective to kiss Merlin that night. He’d planned to keep him company and introduce him to people and flirt with him a little bit, yeah. But kiss him? No.  
  
When Merlin had walked through the door of Gwaine’s house, Arthur’s mouth had gone dry and his resolve to _definitely not kiss Merlin_ had almost crumbled there. But it hadn’t.  
  
And it hadn’t throughout the rest of the night. Not when Merlin had been sitting on his own, or laughing with Morgana, or pressed up against him on the sofa.  
  
It hadn’t until they were outside and Merlin was cold. Arthur had leaned in to wrap his shirt around Merlin’s shoulders – because it was gentlemanly, not because he liked the thought of Merlin in his clothes – and suddenly they were very close together.  
  
So close that Arthur could feel the tickle of Merlin’s breath on his neck and the warmth of his skin through his thin t–shirt. He’d moved his hand from Merlin’s shoulder to his neck, and his thumb had brushed over Merlin’s pulse point.  
  
His heart was racing and his eyes were wide and Arthur had no choice but to close his eyes and close the remaining distance between them when Merlin let out his name is a breathy moan.  
  
Only, their lips never met.  
  
Merlin reeled backwards, fear dancing in his eyes, and scrambled to stand up.  
  
“Shit. Fuck, I’m sorry, Arthur,” he said, taking a nervous step backwards.  
  
“Merlin, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, but Merlin snatched his hand back, shoving it into his pocket.  
  
“Nothing,” he said, moving backwards again. Arthur came closer, concern clear on his face.  
  
“What’s wrong, Merlin? Did I do something? I’m sorry–”  
  
“You did nothing wrong,” Merlin said quietly, turning away.  
  
“Then what’s the problem? It’s just a kiss, it’s not a big deal.” Merlin started to walk away. “Merlin, please tell me what’s wrong. Is it the same thing from last Saturday? Whatever it is, you can tell me!”  
  
Merlin turned quickly to face him. “Are you doing this because of the alcohol?”  
  
Arthur thought about it. “Maybe a bit, but–”  
  
“Well there you go!” Merlin turned away again, but misjudged the distance between his body and the stairs. He started to fall but Arthur put an arm around his waist. Merlin pulled away sharply. “Stop! You don’t actually like me and I don’t want to be your drunken fuck!”  
  
“Merlin–”  
  
“Leave me alone!”  
  
Arthur numbly watched as Merlin went back inside, getting lost in the masses of people.  
  
After several minutes Gwen came outside.  
  
“What happened?” she asked gently, putting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. He sighed.  
  
“I don’t know. I tried to kiss him and he just ran off.”  
  
“Oh,” Gwen said quietly, and Arthur turned to face her.  
  
“What is it?” he asked urgently.  
  
She hesitated before answering, obviously torn. “Merlin’s never kissed anyone before.”  
  
 _Oh._  
  
“I–I didn’t know,” he said shakily, running a hand through his hair. “He never said. I always assumed– I just–” He paused, turning back around to face Gwen, who was looking on in silence. “He’s going to hate me,” he said slowly, dipping his head.  
  
“No, no!” Gwen said gently, putting a hand on his arm. “He won’t hate you. I think he’s a bit…fragile. That’s why he ran off, not because he dislikes you. He _really_ likes you,” she said, then covered her mouth in surprise. Arthur laughed, some of his earlier happiness returning.  
  
“What should I do?” he asked. “About Merlin. Do I– Would he like…flowers?”  
  
Gwen giggled and Arthur felt a warm blush creep up his neck and over his cheeks. He mumbled something to do with it being a _stupid idea_ , and Gwen rushed to make him feel better.  
  
“No, it was a good idea, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Just…” She thought for a moment before continuing. “Just get to know him. Be a friend. All of those things.” She smiled at him again, giving his arm a quick squeeze before heading back inside to join the party.  
  
Arthur waiting a few more minutes before following her.  
  


***

  
Merlin didn’t know what had come over him.  
  
He’d been about to _kiss_ Arthur Pendragon, but had screwed it up so monumentally that not only would Arthur never go near him again, but he’d probably tell the whole school that Merlin was afraid of a _drunken fuck_. Whatever that was.  
  
 _God, I’m an idiot,_ he thought as he stumbled up the driveway and let himself into Gaius’ house. _An idiot who deserves to die alone._  
  


***

  
Arthur had waited by Merlin’s locker until the bell went, but he didn’t show up. He frowned but began walking quickly towards his first lesson.  
  
Merlin didn’t turn up for PE, either, and, although that wasn’t particularly surprising in itself, something didn’t feel right.  
  
Later, when he asked Gwen if she’d seen Merlin she told him that he hadn’t come in that day. Arthur nodded slowly, hurt seeping into his chest.  
  


***

  
Merlin adjusted his earphones and nervously pulled the hems of his sleeves further down, making sure they didn’t rise above his wrists. He’d grown a lot in the last few weeks, and his jumper was too small, but he knew how important it was that he kept them hidden, now more than ever.  
  
He’d managed to avoid Arthur all day and he’d hoped to keep it like that. Unfortunately, Arthur seemed to know exactly where he was all of the time, and had cornered him in the library at lunch time.  
  
“Hi Merlin,” he’d said breezily, sitting next to the raven haired boy. Merlin jumped, pulling the headphones out of his ears.  
  
“Hello,” he said warily, shuffling away from Arthur.  
  
“I thought I’d find you here. You always sit on the field when you’re hiding.” It was said as a joke, but Merlin could sense the underlying sadness, and he took a moment to feel guilty. He’d never meant to upset Arthur. He didn’t say anything though, simply closing the book he’d been doodling in. He’s been sure that he wouldn’t be found here, but it warmed his insides a little that Arthur knew him so well already.  
  
“Are we going to talk about it?” Arthur asked quietly, and instantly the feeling of warmth in Merlin’s chest turned into a raging fire on his face.  
  
“I don’t know what you mean–” he started, but Arthur cut him off.  
  
“No, we’re going to talk about this,” he said sternly. “Now.”  
  
Arthur was leaning so that Merlin could smell his aftershave again – different to the night of the party, but just as good – and it made his brain go a bit soft. He hummed and Arthur chuckled, reaching over to prise Merlin’s fingers off of his iPod.  
  
“Fine then. What are you listening to?” he asked, scrolling through the playlist with a half–confused expression on his face.  
  
“It’s a band called Panic! At The Disco,” Merlin said quietly, feeling faintly embarrassed already, but Arthur grinned.  
  
“I’ve heard of them!” He beamed, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back. Arthur took one of Merlin’s headphones, pulling gently on the shell of Merlin’s ear as he did so. Merlin whined softly and Arthur’s grin widen. “I like your ears,” Arthur said, giving them another slow pull until Merlin ducked his head to hide his face in Arthur’s shoulder, heart hammering.  
  
He pretended not to notice the way Arthur’s hand was resting on the small of his back, or the way Arthur was pressing his face into Merlin’s hair, warm breath making Merlin’s scalp tingle and his heart beat faster. Instead, he twisted his head so that the tip of his nose was touching Arthur’s neck.  
  
It was a while before Arthur spoke. “Are we going to talk about this or are we going to spend all lunch time listening to your music?” he asked, too gently to be sarcastic, rubbing his thumb along Merlin’s spine. “Which I’m happy to do, by the way.”  
  
Merlin looked up at him. “I don’t want to talk,” he said, voice scratchy and uncertain.  
  
“We’re going to have to talk about it at some point, Merlin.”  
  
“Please,” Merlin whispered, dropping his head back to Arthur’s shoulder. Arthur sighed and started singing along to the song they were listening to.  
  


***

  
The rest of the week passed in a mixture of lingering touches and longing glances and lunch times spent on the field listening to music and laughing about things that should have stopped being funny after five minutes.  
  


***

  
_“_ Mer _lin,” Arthur said, drawing out the word as he rolled over, bringing him face to face with Merlin. It made his heart stutter in his chest but if Arthur was aware of this he acted like he wasn’t. “I’m bored.”_  
  
 _“You’re always bored, you clot,” Merlin replied, sitting up and stretching._  
  
 _“What kind of a word is clot?” Arthur snorted, moving to rest his head against Merlin’s leg._  
  
 _“It’s a great word,” he said indignantly, shoving Arthur off and standing up. Arthur pouted and wrapped his hands around Merlin’s ankle to stop him moving away. Merlin sighed and sat back down. “We need to go in soon.”_  
  
 _Arthur checked his watch. “Yeah, I guess so.”_  
  
 _They lay quietly, side by side, for a few minutes before Arthur sat up suddenly. “Gwen and Lance are over there,” he said, dragging Merlin up and pointing in the direction of a couple walking slowly across the field._  
  
 _“And…?”_  
  
 _“We should go spy on them,” Arthur said, grinning. Merlin rolled his eyes. “C’mon, don’t tell me you never played spies as a kid!”_  
  
 _Merlin giggled, unable to get the image of Arthur in full ninja costume out of his head. Arthur’s grin widened._  
  
 _“I knew you’d think it was a good idea,” he said, and set off at a run._  
  
 _They’d only made it half way across the field when Gwen saw them, despite Arthur’s best attempts to hide._  
  
 _(“Get in the bush, Merlin!” he’d whispered, shoving him towards a knee-length shrub._  
  
 _“You must be joking!” Merlin said, but Arthur frowned._  
  
 _“Get down, they’ll see you!”_  
  
 _“They’ve already seen us, you twit!”_  
  
 _Arthur glanced over to where Lance and Gwen were looking very, very confused and pulled a face. “Whatever.”)_  
  
 _Merlin had collapsed on the floor, laughing until his sides hurt._  
  


***

  
Merlin looked down at his phone, but the text hadn’t changed since he’d received it at lunch time.  
  
“Come round tonight, I have something to tell you. Mum x”  
  
Hesitantly, he raised his hand to knock at the door.  
  
When the door opened, Hunith gathered him into a hug.  
  
“My boy,” she said, over and over again until Merlin started to panic.  
  
“Mum? Mum, what’s happened?” he said, voice higher than usual as he pulled away, trying to see what was behind her. She smiled sadly.  
  
“Nothing’s wrong, love. I’ve just missed you.”  
  
Merlin smiled and let himself be enveloped in another hug.  
  
“I know I’ve been a terrible mother recently– no, don’t try to deny it!” she laughed as Merlin started to say something. “I’ve been a terrible mother and I’m so, so sorry. But that’s going to change, I promise.”  
  
She handed him a leaflet.  
  
 _Aquarius Alcohol Action Plan_  
  
He smiled up at her.  
  
“Thank you, mum.”  
  


***

  
Merlin’s face was hurting by the time he got home from smiling so much, and even Gaius commented on his good mood.  
  
“You look better this week, my boy,” he said in passing, and that’s when Merlin realised that he felt better, too – better than he had in a long time – which made him smile more.  
  
Gaius chuckled and walked out of the room, muttering something about _boys in love_. Merlin blushed and made a quick getaway, still smiling despite the heat in his cheeks.  
  


***

  
“Hey,” Arthur said as he fell into step with Merlin.  
  
“Hi!” He grinned, the smile lighting up his whole face.  
  
“Wow, what’s got you so happy?” Arthur asked, beaming back at him. It was good to see Merlin so happy.  
  
“I, uhm. I got some good news last night,” he said, still smiling like a bloody idiot.  
  
“Care to share?” Arthur asked carefully. The relationship he had with Merlin was fragile, he knew that, and he didn’t want to push anything. He was, however, very curious.  
  
“Just something with my mum,” Merlin said breezily, making it clear that he wasn’t going to give anything more away. Arthur nodded.  
  
“So,” he said, turning to face the smaller boy when they stopped at his locker. Merlin tilted his head questioningly. “I’m having a party this weekend, and I want you to come.” Merlin looked like he was ready to protest. “If you can’t make this weekend we’ll do a different one. And mine will be better than Gwaine’s,” he promised, putting on his most charming smile.  
  
Merlin sighed, rolling his eyes. “Of course it will be. You’re Arthur Pendragon.”  
  
“Is that a yes then?” Arthur asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Slowly, Merlin nodded. Arthur grinned. “That’s brilliant! Thank you, Merlin.”  
  


***

  
When Merlin arrived at Arthur’s house, he stopped dead in his tracks, trying to take in the sight in front of him. His first coherent thought was—  
  
 _Holy shit!_  
  
—closely followed by: _Of course Arthur would live in a fucking mansion._  
  
Slowly, he made his way up the long, winding driveway to the large, double doors and knocked once, waiting nervously, then knocked again when no-one answered. He was beginning to get cold and to wonder if maybe the whole thing had been a stupid idea, if maybe he should just go home, when the door opened.  
  
“Merlin!” Gwaine roared, clearly half drunk already. He pulled Merlin into a hug that went on far too long – long enough that he almost began to think that Gwaine might have fallen asleep – before taking him by the arm and leading him through the house and garden towards the bar.  
  
The party was already in full swing, with people dancing and drinking and some of the older boys swimming.  
  
Merlin had to take a moment to adjust himself to the fact Arthur even had a swimming pool. In his whole life he’d never seen such an amazing house. In fact, he hadn’t been aware that houses like these actually existed outside of TV shows, but if anyone would’ve had one, he thought as he took in the tennis court, of course it would have been Arthur.  
  
Arthur himself was standing across the patio, laughing with Leon and drinking something a ridiculous shade of orange, oblivious to Merlin’s arrival and subsequent inner turmoil. He wanted to laugh. He could feel it building, loud and hysterical in his chest, but Gwen, looking gorgeous, of course, swooped in and saved the day.  
  
“You’re looking very dapper,” she spoke casually, waving her hand at his usual skinny–jeans–and–shirt combo.  
  
Merlin shrugged, going slightly pink. “It’s the same as I always wear,” he mumbled sheepishly, looking down at his tattered Converse.  
  
“Well, you look lovely,” she assured him before she took him by the hand and led him to where she and Morgana were sipping brightly coloured cocktails.  
  
“Merlin!” Morgana purred upon seeing him as he got closer, “What can I get you to drink?”  
  
At first, Merlin looked around in panic but then pointed at Gwen’s drink – a blue _thing_ with a gummy bear floating in it. “I’ll have whatever that is,” he answered quickly, hoping it wasn’t too strong.  
  
Morgana laughed, turning to grab a cold glass and pressing it into his hands.  
  
A few minutes later, Arthur finally came to say hello, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and telling him to ‘ _Enjoy yourself, damn it_ ’ and only leaving when Morgana ensured him that he would be enjoying himself if Arthur wasn’t trying to strangle him.  
  
“Am not!” Arthur had exclaimed indignantly but removed his arm anyway, much to Merlin’s disappointment.  
  
Lance arrived after a few hours, kissing Gwen chastely on the lips before greeting everyone else.  
  
They spent most of the evening in this way, moving from the bar to a cluster of deck chairs near the pool at somewhere around eleven o’clock.  
  
Merlin was _actually_ having fun.  
  


***

  
Arthur wiped his palms on his trousers again, taking another sip from his glass. “This is a terrible idea,” he sighed, looking over at Gwaine. “I’ll just go and talk to him like a normal person.”  
  
“Well, he’s not a normal person, is he?” Gwaine leered, raising his eyebrows. “He’s _Merlin_.”  
  
Arthur shoved him away and rolled his eyes. “Do you think it’s a terrible idea?” he asked Leon, who was sitting on his other side.  
  
Leon shrugged. “No, I think it’s a nice idea, but you should do it before he gets too drunk, otherwise he might regret it in the morning.”  
  
Arthur thought for a moment then nodded, pushing back from the bar. “I’ll go and change the song now.”  
  
“Thataboy!” Gwaine cheered, making to slap him on the back but missing so spectacularly that he ended up lying on the floor, dazed. Leon laughed and pushed Arthur towards the music speakers.  
  


***

  
Merlin was now drunk enough that he was feeling pleasantly loose, but not so far gone that he couldn’t walk straight. He was laughing at something Morgana had said when he heard a familiar introductory guitar sequence start playing over the speakers and glanced up, trying to work out who’d requested this particular song.He was shocked to see none other than Arthur walking towards their little group.  
  
 _Well,_ Merlin thought in amusement, _I say walking. It’s more like he’s…strutting in time with the music._  
  
His delight didn’t last long, however. Arthur stopped in front of him, offering down his hand.  
  
“Dance with me?” he asked, and oh _god_ , he was doing that fucking look again – the one Merlin could never, in a million years, say no to. Reluctantly he let himself be pulled up, thankful that there were other people dancing and that none were looking at them.  
  
Merlin was pliant with alcohol, closing his eyes as Arthur rearranged his limbs so that they resembled something similar to a dancing couple, though he didn’t make any effort to dance properly.  
  
“You could stop pretending you’re not enjoying this, you know,” Arthur murmured with a smile. Merlin snorted but opened his eyes, surprised to find that the other’s face was a lot closer than he’d thought it would be, and even more surprised to find that he didn’t really mind. With this in mind, he swallowed but didn’t move away. Arthur chuckled again, pulling him closer.  
  
They stayed like that for a few moments – long enough that Merlin had almost started to relax into it – when Arthur lifted his arm, trying to force him into doing a spin.  
  
“You must be joking,” Merlin sputtered, pushing Arthur away and taking a step back.  
  
“I’m not,” Arthur replied, but there was laughter dancing in his eyes. Merlin huffed out a laugh, shoving at him again when he tried to reach for Merlin’s hand.  
  
Later, Merlin would tell himself that what had happened next wasn’t his fault. It was a badly placed handbag, a badly placed dance, and a badly placed swimming pool.  
  
 _A badly placed shove, too_ , a little voice in his mind would say, but he tried his best to ignore it.  
  
In the next second, he watched as Arthur tumbled backwards, ignoring Sophia’s wail as he tripped over her handbag, and tried to reach out to grab onto something – anything – before he fell into the pool with a monumental splash.  
  
Everyone stopped, turning quickly to look at the swimming pool, and several people stood up to get a better view as it grew deathly silent.  
  
Merlin took a step forward, shaking and suddenly unable to breathe, his eyes fixed on the shadow beneath the surface, scared of what would happen when he finally resurfaced.  
  
However, when he came up for air, he was laughing. Merlin sagged in relief, smile playing on his lips as Arthur swam over. He reached his hand up, gesturing to be pulled out, and Merlin grabbed it. A wicked smile spread over his face, and he pulled sharply on Merlin’s hand, making him, too, fall into the water.  
  
Merlin spluttered indignantly, but Arthur only laughed, pulling him closer. All Merlin’s complaints died on his tongue at the feeling of Arthur’s body next to his again. He sighed contentedly.  
  
There was another splash, then another and another. People were jumping in freely now, and laughter filled the air. Arthur threw his head back and laughed, and Merlin joined in, letting himself be held tighter and tighter until he and Arthur were chest to chest, legs tangled together beneath the surface as they tried to stay afloat.  
  
Out of nowhere, Gwaine threw himself on Arthur, pushing him under the water. He grinned triumphantly at Merlin, but was soon pulled under himself. As the two boys pulled and pushed at each other, laughing and shouting loudly, Merlin swam to the side and climbed out, leaving only his feet dangling in the water, content to watch everyone else for a while.  
  
At some point he went to get a drink, and when he came back Arthur was waiting for him.  
  
His white shirt had turned partially see–through and was clinging to his skin, showing off his defined muscles while his jeans were riding low on his hips, dragged down by the water. Merlin’s mouth went dry.  
  
“I think I deserve another dance after that,” Arthur chuckled smugly, his grin widening as Merlin flushed bright red.  
  
“O…okay,” he stuttered, laughing nervously when Arthur flattened himself over his front. Wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist, he raised his eyebrows until Merlin clasped his hands behind Arthur’s neck.  
  
This time, the song had changed to something slower, and as they moved slowly from side to side, the mood changed along with it.  
  
Merlin moved his head from where it was resting on Arthur’s shoulder to look into his shimmering blue eyes. “Why do you do this?” he asked gently.  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”  
  
“You know.” Merlin shrugged. “ _This_.”  
  
He watched as Arthur gave him a soft, genuine grin—one that was meant only for him. “Because I like you,” he replied easily, as if he was oblivious to the effect he had on Merlin. “Because I want you to be happy. Because I’ve wanted to dance with you for a very long time.”  
  
At this, Merlin’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a gulp of air. “Really?” he asked, shocked and confused all at once. “How long?”  
  
Arthur hummed. “I’m not sure,” he mused, tipping his head to the side. “A few weeks? A month or two? I don’t know.”  
  
Merlin swallowed. “You’re drunk, Pendragon,” he laughed weakly, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
“I’m not, actually,” Arthur beamed proudly. “I’ve been on orange juice all night. I didn’t want to be your drunken fuck.”  
  
Instantly, Merlin blushed, ducking his head so that Arthur couldn’t see his face. Arthur laughed and pulled him closer.  
  
“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly, nudging Merlin’s ear with his nose. There was a brief pause, then a sigh. “If not, I understand. Don’t worry.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes went wide, and he started to panic, realising that he’d taken too long to answer and that Arthur was probably getting fed up of waiting for him. He was about to pull away completely when Arthur whispered in his ear.  
  
“Don’t worry, Merlin,” he murmured, soothing and wonderful in every way. Merlin calmed down, knowing that there was no-one that he’d rather do this with.  
  
“Yes,” he replied hoarsely, pressing his face into Arthur’s neck. “I want you to kiss me.”  
  
For a moment, Arthur froze as if he hadn’t been expecting this at all, then slowly moved one hand from Merlin’s waist to under his chin and nudged it up until they were looking into each other’s eyes.  
  
Merlin took a deep breath, unsure of what to do, but Arthur didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward, and Merlin’s eyes closed at the first press of his lips.  
  
It was _wonderful_.  
  


***

 

It was chaste at first, just the gentle press of lips against lips, moving softly over each other. He realised in the back of his mind that kissing someone was different than how he’d expected it to be – so different to kissing the back of his hand that he wanted to kill whoever had said that’s what it would be like.

  
And he would have been happy to do this forever, but he could feel Arthur nibbling at his lower lip, and he didn’t stop to think before letting his mouth fall open a little. At this, Arthur made a surprised sound, pulling away slightly before moving to suck on Merlin’s lower lip, his hands closing over the other’s hips.  
  
Merlin couldn’t help but moan softly, and Arthur chuckled, the sound travelling through them both.  
  
“Merlin,” he whispered against his mouth, pulling back far enough to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “You’re really wonderful, you know.”  
  
Merlin wanted to laugh but couldn’t. He’d never wanted someone as much as Arthur – never even _thought_ he could – but at the same time, he’d also never been so afraid.  
  
“Arthur,” he breathed. He could hear people whistling and catcalling, but they sounded so far away and unimportant when Arthur was right here, squeezing his waist as they carried on kissing and kissing and _kissing_. Merlin sighed happily and slowly pulled away.  
  
Around them, people were cheering, and Merlin spotted Morgana, Gwen and Lance, grinning to themselves by the bar, as if they’d known this was going to happen all along. Belatedly, he realised that they probably had. All of a sudden, he felt an unbelievable wave of happiness crash through him because he could finally say that thesemarvellouspeople were indeedhis _friends_.  
  
Arthur’s arms were still around his waist, and his own were still around the other’s neck. When he was pulled up for another kiss, Merlin could only comply wholeheartedly. This one was short but sweet, and when they parted, they were both smiling like idiots.  
  
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Merlin murmured. He couldn’t believe that Arthur wanted him. Not like this. He must have said some of his thoughts out loud, because Arthur pulled him closer and kissed him again.  
  
“ _Merlin_ ,” Arthur breathed. “Listen to me. I _like_ you. I like everything about you, and I want to go out with you. _You_ , Merlin. Please stop doubting yourself.”  
  
Merlin closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head. Arthur leaned in to rest his forehead against Merlin’s, pressing a kiss to his nose. Merlin buried his face in Arthur’s neck, but he was smiling.  
  
“Is that a yes then?” Arthur chuckled.  
  
Merlin held his breath, pulling back slightly. “Hmm?”  
  
Arthur laughed, giving a wide, scintillating grin. “Will you go out with me?”  
  
“Arthur—”  
  
“I swear, Merlin, if you tell me that you’re not good enough, I will force you to go out with me. You _are_ good enough, I promise.”  
  
For a second, Merlin was quiet. “You won’t want me,” he murmured, face falling again. “When you find out...when you find out you won’t want anything to do with me.”  
  
Immediately Arthur shook his head. “That’s not true. You’re gorgeous and _so_ lovely, and your only flaw is the way you _think_ you’re not as good as you are. Let me show you that you’re perfect.” He was shocked by his sudden outburst but didn’t take it back – it was all _true_.  
  
Merlin smiled and, for the first time, leaned in to kiss him.  
  
After a few minutes Arthur took a full step back. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked. Instantly, Merlin felt bereft of his warm embrace, the night air cutting through his damp clothes and leaving him shivering. Some of it must have shown on his face, because Arthur laughed, leaning in once more to press his lips to the corner of Merlin’s mouth.  
  
“I–I’ll have a beer, please,” Merlin muttered, trying and failing to keep the giddy smile from spreading over his face.  
  
Arthur nodded and started towards the bar. However, he hadn’t gone far before he turned back around, crossed the distance between them and kissed Merlin _again_. When he pulled back, he was grinning widely.  
  
“I couldn’t keep away,” he chuckled softly, momentarily resting his forehead against Merlin’s. “Just one more...” He leaned in again but Merlin shoved him away.  
  
“Go on, you daft thing,” he sighed, fondly exasperated. Arthur kissed him anyway, then finally made his way to the bar.  
  


***

  
When they rejoined the party, Merlin relaxed into every lingering touch on his waist and back and neck. Several people came over to pat them both on the back, saying how happy they were, and Merlin could only duck his head in an attempt to hide the flaming blush on his face. Arthur smiled, waiting until they’d gone away, then kissed him softly, stroking his thumb along his cheekbone and whispering things only the two of them could hear.  
  
At about quarter past one, Merlin was forced to look down at his watch. “Fuck,” he muttered, jumping down from his stool by the bar. “I need to go.”  
  
Arthur quickly stood up next to him, placing a hand over his back with concern. “What? Why?”  
  
Merlin closed his eyes. “I told Gaius I’d be home by one o’clock,” he answered, a hint of self–disappointment to his tone. “I really do have to go.”  
  
In response, Arthur sighed, but could only nod at the statement. He took a step forward, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist, and leaned in, kissing until Merlin finally pulled away, a little breathless.  
  
“I’ll see you later, okay?” he breathed, smiling.  
  
Arthur pressed a final kiss to the corner of his mouth, then gently pushed him out the door, letting it click shut behind him.  
  
Merlin leaned back against the door, breath stuttering in his chest, giddy with happiness that _he’d kissed Arthur Pendragon._  
  
Things were finally looking up.  
  


***

  
Arthur put his hand against the door that Merlin had just walked through, heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. He let his forehead fall against the cool wood, fighting back a grin.  
  
  
  


  


 

***

  
“Fucking poofs,” Valiant swore, thumping his fist against the lockers. “They should be shot.”  
  
At this, one of his mates snorted. “Yeah, they should,” he agreed, bobbing his head quickly. “Motherfucking cocksuckers.”  
  
Merlin ducked his head, trying to remain inconspicuous as he walked past them, but it didn’t work. In a split second, Valiant caught his arm and twisted it, forcing him against the lockers.  
  
“Well won’t you look at that,” he hissed, tightening his grip so that he was almost crushing Merlin’s wrist.  
  
Merlin whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. _It really hurts..._  
  
The other huffed, glaring at him. “Talk of the fucking devil. How’s your boyfriend, wizard boy?”  
  
“Let me go,” Merlin replied, much more bravely than he felt.  
  
Valiant only laughed back in his face. “I don’t think so,” he sneered, shoving him backwards. Merlin felt a lock dig into his back and winced, trying to ignore the pain.  
  
That was when a strong, familiar voice spoke. The crowd went silent.  
  
“ _Valiant.”_  
  
Merlin was trapped in Valiant’s grip, unable to twist and see who had spoken. The brute paused, then snarled, frowning as he turned around.  
  
“Let him go,” Arthur ordered, taking a step forward with his fists clenched at his sides.  
  
Valiant released Merlin, who lost his footing and fell to the floor, and turned to face Arthur, his own hands clenched into meaty fists. Merlin’s eyes flicked between the two, anticipating a fight, but the bell for lessons went and the students around them started to walk away, taking the tension with them.  
  
After a moment of hesitation Valiant reluctantly walked away, but Arthur didn’t move until he was halfway down the corridor.  
  
“Are you okay?” he asked gently, helping Merlin to stand up.  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered quickly, brushing Arthur’s hands away from him and looking around nervously. The news of what had happened at the party had spread like a virus, and people were already giving them shifty looks.  
  
Merlin immediately got to his feet and stepped back. “Sorry, Arthur,” he said briskly, hurriedly making his way towards the other end of the hall. “I’ve got to go.” With that, he turned his eyes away from him completely, only looking back when he got to the end of the corridor to wave and smile shyly.  
  


***

  
When he’d watched as Merlin suddenly left for his next class, Arthur only stood there beside the lockers, not knowing what to do or say other than keep his gaze fixed on the back of Merlin’s head for fear that if he looked away again for even a second, someone else would try to hurt him again.  
  
Or worse—that he’d disappear from his life forever.  
  
Later on at football practice Arthur didn’t hesitate to deal with Valiant.  
  
“Stay away from him,” he hissed, coming over to stand in front of him.  
  
Valiant’s face twisted into a nasty smile. “Or what?” he laughed.  
  
“I’ll punch your fucking lights out,” Arthur growled, taking a step closer, and instantly the smile fell off Valiant’s face.  
  
“Get away from me, you filthy faggot!”  
  
A muscle in Arthur’s jaw popped. He clenched his fists, ready to take a swing at the larger boy no matter the cost but stopped short when a _very_ clever idea suddenly came across his mind.  
  
A slow smile crept over his face. “I think you’ll be doing laps today,” he remarked, a smug edge to his collected tone.  
  
There was a groan from the rest of the football team, who’d all been listening to the exchange in silence. Arthur held up his hand before anyone could complain.  
  
“No, not you,” he smiled, turning to look at Valiant with self–satisfaction. “Just him.” He grinned at the look of outrage on the boy’s face.  
  


***

  
At the end of the session, Arthur pulled Valiant aside. The larger boy was sweating and breathing hard, barely able to stand up because he hadn’t taken a break for the entire two hour practice.  
  
He clapped a hand on his back, smiling nastily. “I’m afraid you’re no longer required on the team.”  
  
“I did your fucking laps!” Valiant wheezed, knees buckling as he tried to take a step towards Arthur.  
  
“And I hope they were worth it,” he replied, and Valiant narrowed his eyes dangerously at him.  
  
A moment later Arthur received a sharp left hook to his face.  
  
By the time Arthur got home he had a black eye and a stupid grin plastered on his face, because not only was Valiant off the team, he was also suspended from school for attacking a fellow pupil.  
  


***

  
_Didn’t touch anything all weekend. Love you, Mum. X_  
  
Merlin put his phone back in his pocket and smiled.  
  
 _If she can do it, so can I,_ he thought cheerfully, looking down and starting to draw on his wrist as he made his way down the front steps of the school.  
  
He passed the large crowd that was waiting by the bus stop nearby and overheard a jeer from a tall brunet – Cenred – who started to smirk tauntingly at him when he caught sight of Merlin’s wrist.  
  
“Of course the fucking poof would have a fucking butterfly on his arm,” he sneered, laughing when Merlin ducked his head and tried to walk away from him. “I bet you like My Little Pony too?”  
  
The crowd around them laughed, and Merlin’s cheeks flared pink.  
  
Arthur stepped in from out of nowhere. “Fuck off, Cenred,” he spat out harshly, only just suppressing a smile at the look of fear in his eyes. He turned to Merlin as the other boys walked away, leaving the two of them alone under the bus shelter. “You okay?”  
  
“Yeah...thanks,” Merlin murmured shyly, not meeting Arthur’s gaze. “But I could have dealt with them.”  
  
“I know. I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” he assured, smiling.  
  
But Merlin didn’t return the expression. “Well, I was.”  
  
At this, Arthur put his fingers under his chin, raising the boy’s head so that he was looking at him. “I believe you,” he chuckled softly, then leaned in and pressed his lips against Merlin’s. “Do you want to come round tonight?” he asked, carefully brushing his knuckle against Merlin’s palm before twining their fingers together.  
  
Merlin blinked stupidly, dazed before replying. “I would, uhm, love to, but I think I’m doing something tonight, or something…” he stammered, eyes trained on the ground.  
  
Arthur laughed. “Merlin,” he sighed, mockingly exasperated. He leaned in so that his lips were no more than a centimetre away from the other’s ear. “I promise not to deflower you,” he whispered.  
  
Merlin couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside him and forced its way through his lips. He looked shocked at the outburst, but it lightened the atmosphere between them and he cracked his first genuine smile since getting to the bus stop.  
  
“Come _on_ ,” Arthur laughed, pulling on his hand. “I know you want to.”  
  
Merlin shook his head in exasperation, but he couldn’t stop grinning. “Okay.”  
  


***

  
They spent the afternoon walking around town, talking about things that didn’t matter much. At almost six o’clock, they went back to Arthur’s house, where they proceeded to play on the Playstation for another couple of hours. It wasn’t until half past eight that Merlin finally got up.  
  
“I’d better go,” he muttered reluctantly, moving to put on his school jumper, which had been thrown over the sofa during their third Mario Kart race.  
  
“You could stay, you know. Dad wouldn’t mind,” Arthur suggested, looking up at him with the controller still in his hands.  
  
“Oh no,” Merlin replied, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother–”  
  
“You wouldn’t be!” Arthur insisted, “I promise. I think Dad wants to meet you anyway.”  
  
Merlin froze. “You’ve told your dad about me?” he asked carefully.  
  
Arthur grinned brightly. “I told him that I liked someone, and that I would bring him round at some point.”  
  
There was a short pause. “You…does he not have a problem with that? With me? With…us?” Merlin was very surprised. He’d always thought that Arthur’s father, whoever he was, would be very conservative, and that any relationship his son might have would be closeted, but it appeared that he was wrong.  
  
Arthur leaned forward to gently squeeze Merlin’s hand in reassurance. “No, he’s okay with it. Why, does your mum not like the fact that you’re gay? .  
  
Merlin lowered his eyes, not meeting the other’s gaze. “She…doesn’t have a problem with it, exactly, but if she’s angry, she’ll bring it up as if it’s a bad thing.” he whispered quietly.  
  
Arthur withdrew his hand, his expression softening. “Call your uncle or something, let him know you’re staying,” he murmured, reaching over to grab Merlin’s phone off the coffee table.  
  
Merlin nodded and quickly tapped out a message to Gaius, stomach full of butterflies already.  
  
“I haven’t got any pyjamas, or a toothbrush,” he said, suddenly realising that he didn’t have _anything_ he would need.  
  
“Oh no, that’s fine. You can wear some of my pyjamas and we’ve got spare toothbrushes,” Arthur replied comfortingly with a smile, then turned back to the game. “You ready to play again?”  
  


***

  
It was coming up to eleven o’clock when Arthur finally broached the subject that had been playing on his mind all day. “You know,” he muttered softly, feeling the familiar stutter in his chest as Merlin looked at him from across the sofa. “Morgana did the butterfly project too.”  
  
There was a shocked silence, in which the latter’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open. “She…you…what?” he choked out, eyes darting around the room, looking at anything but the boy sitting opposite him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
Arthur sighed. “ _Merlin_.” His voice was calm and gentle, but he made it clear that he wasn’t going to drop the subject. He inched closer on the sofa, feeling his heart drop when Merlin shuffled away from him. “I don’t mind that you’re doing it, I just wish you’d told me.”  
  
“There’s nothing to tell,” Merlin said briskly, jumping immediately to his feet.  
  
Arthur got up with him, catching the younger boy’s hands in his own. “Merlin,” he spoke firmly, holding on tighter when the other tried to pull away. “I know that the butterfly project is a scheme for people who self-harm. I know what it entails and what it means. Please trust me.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes were full of tears when he eventually looked up at Arthur. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice scratchy and raw. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry.”  
  
“No, stop!” Arthur barked, frowning. He pulled him back down onto the sofa and grabbed his hands again. “You have nothing to be sorry for!” he insisted, “and there’s nothing wrong with you, I promise.”  
  
Merlin sniffed, his tears finally rolling down his cheeks. He pulled the sleeves of his jumper down over his hands and leaned backwards. “I’m _sorry_.”  
  
“No,” Arthur tried again, reaching for Merlin’s hand. His fingers traced around the hem of his sleeve, pushing it up over his fingers and palm and wrist until it was rolled all the way up to his elbow.  
  
His skin was pale and smooth, but dotted with silvery–pink scars. Arthur traced a finger over them again and again, mapping out the patterns, but froze when Merlin let out a small sob.  
  
“Hey,” he soothed, raising a hand to Merlin’s cheek to brush away the moisture. “It’s okay.”  
  
“They’re disgusting,” Merlin snapped, trying to pull his arm away. “I’m disgusting. Leave me alone.”  
  
Arthur only shifted closer. “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, running his thumb over his cheek and bottom lip. Merlin’s eyes were closed, so he leaned his forehead against his and took a few breaths before closing the distance between them.  
  
Kissing Merlin was still new – still thrilling in a way that made his heart leap in his chest – but as he did it more and more, it was becoming familiar. He knew the way Merlin would freeze for a second, as if he couldn’t understand what was happening, then slowly start to move, sucking gently on Arthur’s bottom lip until one of them pulled away or changed the angle. He knew that Merlin’s hands would hover uncertainly between them until they tangled in a piece of clothing. He knew that Merlin’s pupils were blown wide after every kiss, and his steps were unsteady for a few minutes. He knew that Merlin liked kissing him, even when he pulled away and said—  
  
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” again and again, tears streaming freely down his face. Arthur pulled him onto his knee and wrapped his arms around his waist. For a moment Merlin stiffened and tried to pull away, and Arthur thought that maybe he’d taken it too far, too soon, but then Merlin was sobbing into the warm skin where Arthur’s neck met his shoulders, hands clenched in the material of Arthur’s shirt.  
  
“Shhh,” he whispered softly, running his hands over Merlin’s back in soothing circles. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine.”  
  
They stayed like that until Merlin’s sobs had quietened into pitiful sniffs and the occasional hiccup. Arthur pulled away, grimacing at the wide-eyed expression on Merlin’s tear–stained face.  
  
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assured him, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple before climbing off the sofa. “I just thought I’d put on a film or something. What do you want to watch?”  
  
“Do you have The Avengers?” Merlin asked in a small voice, a small smile playing on his lips.  
  
When Arthur turned around, he couldn’t help but beam back at him. “Yeah,” he replied with a grin of his own, putting the disk into the DVD player and shuffling back to the sofa. He climbed over Merlin and lay behind him, pulling him against his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist so that they were pressed against each other in the narrow space.  
  
“Are we spooning?” Merlin giggled after a moment, craning his neck to look at Arthur.  
  
He huffed out a breath but tightened his hold around Merlin’s waist, pressing a close–mouthed kiss to the expanse of pale skin in front of him before settling down to watch the film.  
  


***

  
Arthur knew that Merlin was asleep when he started snuffling into Arthur’s t–shirt and dribbling on his chest.  
  
They were no longer spooning. At some point – and he could even remember moving – they’d shifted so Merlin was curled around him, half lying on his chest with his nose buried in Arthur’s neck.  
  
Arthur was aware that they should probably relocate to his bedroom, where there was an extra mattress for Merlin, but he took one look at him and he decided that he couldn’t bear to wake him. Slowly, he started to disentangle himself from Merlin’s long, gangly limbs, but froze when he started mumbling in his sleep.  
  
 _I’ll just wait for him to fall asleep again,_ Arthur thought. _Then I’ll move._  
  
He closed his eyes – just to rest them for a minute – but didn’t stop himself drifting into unconsciousness.  
  


***

  
In the other room nearby, Uther put down his pen and let his head rest against the desk, not quite believing what he was hearing.  
  
 _Self–harm_ kept repeating itself over and over in his head, and he wished, for the briefest moment that this boy, whoever he was, would stay away from Arthur. His poor son had seen more than enough during Morgana’s rough patch, and he didn’t need anything more.  
  
But then he’d heard Arthur himself.  
  
 _You’re beautiful_ , he’d said in a voice so much like Ygraine’s that Uther couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks.  
  
He stayed in his study for hours – waiting for the boys to stop moving and fall asleep – before creeping out into the hallway. He peered into the living room, where they were tangled together on the sofa, and couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face.  
  


***

  
Even the next day was spent on the sofa, with old films and lazy kisses, until Merlin finally had to go.  
  
“Do you have to? Are you sure?” Arthur asked, propping his chin on Merlin’s shoulder.  
  
Merlin laughed. “Yes, I’m sure. Just like I was sure five minutes ago, you clot.”  
  
Arthur huffed out a laugh, circling his waist with his arms. “Okay, fine. I’ll walk you home then.”  
  
“You don’t have to do that–” Merlin started, but he was cut off.  
  
“I know I don’t have to, idiot. I _want_ to. Is that okay with you, Your Majesty?”  
  
Merlin snorted. “Don’t pretend to be humble, Arthur. Everyone knows you think you’re better than royalty.”  
  
At this, Arthur mimed being stabbed. “That hurt, Emrys,” he choked out, falling to his knees. “That hurt.”  
  
“Remind me again why you didn’t take drama?” Merlin scoffed, helping him to his feet.  
  
“Because I had more important subjects to take,” he replied pompously, fighting back a laugh. Merlin shoved him gently and moved towards the door.  
  
Arthur followed close behind, his smile never leaving his face.  
  


***

  
“Will you say thanks to your dad from me? I was too scared to tell him myself this morning.” Somehow, Merlin had managed to avoid meeting Arthur’s father, despite them being in the same house for over twenty four hours.  
  
“Of course,” the other chuckled, patting him on the shoulder as they reached their destination. “I’ll see you Monday?”  
  
“Yeah,” Merlin replied, smiling sadly. He’d had a wonderful, _wonderful_ time over the last two days, and he didn’t want it to end.  
  
“Hey! Cheer up!” Arthur grinned then leaned in to kiss him once, chastely, before skipping back down the path in front of Gaius’ house.  
  
Merlin stood completely still for a moment, following him with his eyes like one of those stupid, lovesick fools from overly dramatized TV programs, then went inside. He didn’t stop grinning for hours.  
  


***

  
In the following weeks, Arthur took Merlin out on dates to the cinema and posh restaurants and insisted on paying for everything. They hung out at Pendragon Manor during most weekends – where Merlin was eventually introduced to Uther, who greeted him with surprising warmth – and of course they occasionally went back to Gaius’ house for tea.  
  
It was only after three weeks of this that Arthur finally convinced Merlin that–  
  
 _“We’re going out, goddammit, and we have been for a month now!”_  
  
–and they made it official–  
  
 _“Arthur, do we have to put it on Facebook?”_  
  
 _“Yes, of course we do. How else are people going to know to offer their congratulations?”_  
  
–and later went on even more dates.  
  
Then finally, a few weeks later, Arthur met Hunith for the first time.  
  


***

  
“Do you want to go see Spiderman with me tomorrow?” Arthur asked, slinging an arm around Merlin’s shoulders.  
  
Merlin frowned, his expression unsure as he tentatively lowered his gaze to the floor. “Fuck, I can’t. I told my mum I’d go out with her. Usually I’d ask her if I can skip it but...it’s a sort of...celebration, you know? It’s been a month.”  
  
By this point, Arthur knew all about Hunith’s drinking problem. Merlin had confessed everything one night, and, once again, Arthur had held him close, telling him that–  
  
 _“Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.”_  
  
–but Merlin was still reluctant to talk about it openly.  
  
Arthur nodded in response, unable to keep the disappointment off his face. “S’okay mate, maybe another time.”  
  
He let go of his shoulder and turned to leave, but Merlin grabbed his hand. “No, hey. Uhm. How about I ask her if you can come?” He paused, biting his lip. “She really wants to meet you.”  
  
Arthur’s eyes widened. “You’ve talked to her about us?” he asked in surprise.  
  
Merlin nodded, blushing slightly.  
  
Arthur shrugged, lips curling into a hopeful smile. “Well then. I guess you could ask?”  
  
Merlin grinned back.

  
***  
  


That evening, he blurted the question as he walked through the door of his mum’s house, twisting his fingers in his sweatshirt.  
  
“Of course Arthur can come, sweetheart!” Hunith laughed, pulling her boy in for a hug. “You don’t need to look so nervous about it. I’m looking forward to finally meeting this fellow.”  
  
Merlin giggled, reaching for his phone.  
  
 _Mum said you can come – we’re going to Brighton :D_  
  
He got a reply within seconds:  
  
 _Great! Can’t wait (:_  
  
He confirmed it with his mum before they settled down on the sofa to watch some television.

  
***  
  
  


The next day, Arthur met Merlin and his mother at the train station.  
  
It was a nice day – pleasantly hot and no clouds in the sky – so he walked, and the first thing he saw was Merlin, wearing a tight shirt, jeans, and his Converse. Arthur wanted nothing more than to ravish him right there but controlled himself, thinking it would do no good to make a bad first impression.  
  
The three of them talked easily on the train, and in the short time they’d spent together, Arthur found that, although he’d wanted to dislike her after what she’d done to Merlin, he just couldn’t. Merlin had tried to explain that alcohol twists people up, that the Hunith under the influence of too much alcohol wasn’t really Hunith, but Arthur hadn’t believed him. Now, as he looked at the way she fussed over her son and how he blushed at the attention, he could understand.  
  
When they arrived, they got fish and chips and sat on the pier, looking out over the sea as they ate in comfortable silence. They stayed for a few hours after that, just chatting, and Arthur smiled at the way Merlin visibly relaxed when he saw that his mother and his boyfriend got on well.  
  
At about three o’clock, Hunith got up, brushed down her long, flowing skirt, pulled out some money and gave it to her son.  
  
“You boys go and have some fun. I’ll meet you at six, okay?” she spoke sweetly with a warm smile on her face.  
  
Merlin nodded back, grinning, but waited until his mother had walked around the corner before grabbing Arthur’s hand and pulling him back towards the beach.  
  
They walked around town for a little while, simply enjoying each other’s presence, until they found the arcade.  
  
“I bet I can beat you at ice hockey,” Arthur gibed, smirking as he walked towards the game table.  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Are you sure you want to do that? I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”  
  
Arthur snorted, rolling his eyes in obvious disbelief.  
  
However, twenty minutes later he wasn’t so disbelieving.  
  
“I can’t believe you beat me!” he shouted again, receiving several strange looks from people passing by.  
  
Merlin beamed at him triumphantly, linking their hands together.  
  
“I hate to say it, Arthur–”  
  
“Then _don’t_ say it, _Mer_ lin.”  
  
“But I told you so!” he sing–songed, skipping for a few meters.  
  
Arthur laughed. “You look like something out of The Sound Of Music,” he said, recapturing Merlin’s hand in his own.  
  
“It’s a bit worrying that you know what the people from the Sound Of Music look like,” Merlin giggled, earning a playful shove on the shoulder. He giggled even more. “Can we go down to the beach?” he asked, turning to face his boyfriend.  
  
Arthur chuckled, squeezing the other’s hand. “You don’t need to ask twice!”

  
***  
  


The beach was stony, rather than sandy, and quite crowded, but they found themselves a spot in the shade – mainly because Merlin’s skin burnt too easily for the beach sunshine – and away from the crowds of people.  
  
Merlin had his legs slung over Arthur’s and his head on his shoulder, and he hummed contentedly.  
  
“Mum likes you,” he mumbled, turning his face Arthur’s neck.  
  
“Good,” Arthur laughed, wrapping an arm around Merlin’s waist to pull him closer. “I like her too.” He looked at Merlin, only to see that he didn’t look convinced, then exhaled sharply. “No, seriously. I didn’t think I was going to but she’s _lovely_. How could I not?”  
  
The smaller one chuckled, breath warm against the other’s skin. “I’m glad. I was really worried.”  
  
“I know you were.” Arthur bounced his shoulder, forcing Merlin to look up. “Thanks for bringing me today. I had a really good time.”  
  
Merlin smiled then leaned up and kissed him softly. “I had a good time too.” He glanced down at his watch and, seemingly convinced that they had enough time to get back to their meeting point, laid down on the stones, bringing Arthur down with him.  
  
They stayed there in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the feeling of their legs tangled together and their fingers entwined between them. After some time,  Merlin looked at his watch again and groaned.  
  
“We’ve got to go,” he grumbled, pulling away with some reluctance.  
  
Arthur let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Okay. But first...” He leaned forwards, brushing his nose against Merlin’s, then kissed him, long and slow.

  
***  
  


The ride home was peaceful. Everyone was so worn out that they were more than content to sit in silence. Arthur was asleep, leaning on Merlin’s shoulder as he absentmindedly stroked his soft, sunshine–gold hair. Hunith smiled at the sight and shifted her gaze to stare warmly at her son.  
  
“He’s a nice boy,” she whispered quietly.  
  
Merlin blushed, letting his hand fall away from Arthur’s hair. She laughed at him, reaching over to ruffle his already messy dark hair.  
  
“ _Mum_ ,” he whined, trying to knock her hand away.  
  
She pulled back her hand, still smiling fondly. They didn’t say anything else until the train pulled up at their station.  
  
“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, nudging him carefully, but he didn’t stir. “Hey, Arthur!” He pushing a bit harder this time. Arthur’s eyes fell open slowly, the bright blue still clouded with sleep.  
  
“Wha–?” he started, then looked down at Merlin’s shoulder. “Oh god, I dribbled on you.”  
  
Merlin couldn’t help but grin. “I know! And I’ll never let you live it down!” he laughed.  
  
Arthur groaned, but he was smiling in spite of himself.  
  
It had been a good day.

  
***  
  


Everything carried on much like that. To the both of them, everything had seemed so perfect with just the two of them making each other happy.  
  
Except.  
  
Merlin felt February like a storm cloud looming in the distance, and no matter how hard he tried to push it out of his mind, it was always _there_ , a threatening presence lurking at the edge of his very consciousness.  
  


***

  
When Merlin didn’t turn up on Monday morning Arthur wasn’t that surprised. In fact, he wasn’t even worried, because Merlin was late quite often, so it wasn’t really a big deal.  
  
 _However,_ when Merlin _still_ hadn’t turned up by lunch time, he frowned. He sent a quick text to him and got on with the rest of his day, ignoring the nagging feeling in his stomach that something wasn’t right. Merlin was an idiot and had probably lost his phone charger or something. They’d see each other at school the next day anyway.  
  
Except Merlin didn’t come in the next day. Or the next day. Or the one after that.  
  
Arthur kept texting him, getting increasingly desperate with each message.  
  
 _You okay? Xxx_  
  
 _Helloo? Merlin? Xxx_  
  
 _Earth to Merlin… xxx_  
  
 _Anybody there? Xx_  
  
 _I know you’re an idiot, but you can’t have lost your charger for this long, can you? Xx_  
  
 _Merlin seriously, are you okay? Xx_  
  
 _Call me x_  
  
 _Please call me x_  
  
 _Okay I’m coming over._  
  
And that was how Arthur found himself standing outside the house on Thursday afternoon, feeling like an idiot, because Merlin was just _looking_ at him as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the past few days.  
  
“You didn’t reply to any of my texts,” Arthur said lamely.  
  
In response, Merlin looked momentarily startled, but his anxiety soon faded back into a masked, neutral expression. “Sorry, I didn’t check my phone,” he replied, just above a hushed whisper.  
  
Arthur threw his arms in the air, a half–incredulous, half–concerned look on his face. “You didn’t–” he began, letting out a long, exasperated sigh. “Come on, Merlin! It’s been four days!” He didn’t want to sound accusatory but he just couldn’t help it. He’d been sonervous, so _scared_ that something bad had happened to him.  
  
Merlin looked down at his feet, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. “I’m sorry, I was ill,” he muttered quietly, but Arthur only continued, his voice rising as he spoke to the point where he was almost shouting.  
  
“You could have at least told me, Merlin!” he exclaimed, “I was worried!”  
  
“I’m really sorry, Arthur,” Merlin whispered, barely audible as tears started shimmering in his eyes.  
  
Arthur paused, his eyes softening with concern and maybe just a _bit_ of regret. Alright—maybe it was a lot of regret, especially now that he could see how much Merlin  was hurting inside. “It’s fine,” he murmured, already feeling his anger melt away. He took a step back, hesitating for a brief moment, and exhaled sharply. “It’s just…I’ve got to go, okay? But I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
  
Merlin quickly wiped his cheeks with his wrist and nodded slowly.  
  
Reluctantly, Arthur walked back down the path, turning to wave at the end with a half smile on his face.  
  
Merlin could only wave back half–heartedly before slinking back into the shadows behind the front door.  
  


***

  
Meanwhile, at the Emrys home, Hunith was pacing around the living room.  
  
 _“Hi, it’s Merl– No! Fuck off, Will! Sorry. Hi, it’s Merlin! Sorry I can’t take your call right now but if you leave a mess– Shut up, dickhead, I’m recording something! If you leave a message, I’ll try and call you back or something. Thanks! BEEP.”_  
  
She took a shaky breath, letting her head fall against the wall. He hadn’t changed his answer phone message, even after Will had left them, and she’d never even _noticed_.  
  
“Merlin, it’s Mum. Please pick up. I didn’t mean any of it, I promise. I just—” She stopped for a second, trying to organise her thoughts. “I’m so, _so_ sorry, Merlin. It wasn’t true. I swear, Merlin, I didn’t mean any of it. Just…please call me back. I _love_ you.”  
  


***

  
_“Beep. You have no more messages. To listen again, press ONE—”_  
  
Merlin threw his phone against the wall, watching as it bounced behind his chest of drawers, and decided that he wasn’t going to retrieve it.  
  
A few minutes later he picked it up anyway and sat against the wall, resting his chin on his knees and crying as he stared at the slightly cracked screen of his phone and scrolled through the texts from Arthur, wishing it would be different but knowing, deep down, that he _couldn’t_ let this happen. Not again.  
  


***

  
The next day, Merlin did go into school, though he sat alone at lunch, choosing to put his headphones in and push his food around his plate for a while instead of sitting with his friends.  
  
“Are you sure Merlin’s alright, Arthur?” Gwen asked nervously, glancing briefly over her shoulder to where he was sitting a few tables away. “He just…he’s been really quiet since he came back.”  
  
There was a long pause. “He was ill. I think he’s still getting over whatever it was,” Arthur replied in a hushed tone.  
  
“He doesn’t look ill, mate,” Gwaine said loudly through a mouthful of _something_.  
  
But Arthur just sighed. “I don’t know.”  
  
Suddenly Merlin got up, throwing his uneaten food in the bin and storming out of the lunch hall. He’d heard them.  
  


***

  
He didn’t know where he was walking to, only that he had to get away from everyone _right now_. That’s why, when Arthur called his name from down the corridor, he pretended not to hear.  
  
“Merlin! Hey, Merls!” he shouted, and _oh fuck, he’s running._ Briefly, Merlin thought about trying to get away, but decided against it. Arthur would catch up anyway, and he’d probably just fall over if he tried to run.  
  
Instead, he took a deep breath and turned around.  
  
“Oh, hi,” he said lightly, trying to force a cordial smile on his face.  
  
“Merlin!” Unlike yesterday, Arthur was actually grinning at him, going in for a hug. Merlin jerked backwards, holding out his hands in defense, and Arthur’s bright expression gradually faded into a grimace. “Are…you okay?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just...” Merlin paused. He didn’t want to be nasty, but he had to do _something_. "I don't feel like being around people right now,” he finished nonchalantly before he shrugged and took another step backwards, away from Arthur.  
  
Arthur nodded as well, but he was clearly troubled. “Okay. Yeah, no, that’s fine. Cool.”  
  
Merlin wanted to say something but quickly restrained himself. It was for the best.  
  
He heard Arthur clear his throat. “Hey, I was wondering...what are you doing on Saturday?”  
  
This time, Merlin was the one who grimaced. He _knew_ that face. It was the _I’m–about–to–ask–you–out–somewhere–great_ face, and it was the one face he didn’t want to see right now. “I think I’m busy,” he answered shortly, lowering his eyes sheepishly. “Sorry.”  
  
“But…” Arthur looked crestfallen now. “What are you doing? You can’t be doing anything that you can’t change?”  
  
Merlin let out a small sigh and slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t go out.”  
  
In a split second, the corridor grew deathly silent.  
  
“But…it’s Valentine’s Day.”  
  
At this, Merlin’s heart plummeted. He’d never had anyone to share Valentine’s Day with, and there was no-one he’d want to spend it with more than Arthur. He wished with all his heart that he could let himself forget everything, just until Saturday, but it wasn’t possible. He _had_ to do this.  
  
“No, I really can’t,” he choked out, lowering his head even more. “I’m sorry, Arthur.”  
  
He turned and walked away, fighting the impulse to look back.  
  


***

  
The rest of the week passed slowly. Arthur didn’t know what was wrong with Merlin – none of them did – and they didn’t talk properly for seven days, despite Arthur’s best efforts.  
  
When Saturday finally rolled around, he was feeling upset and hurt and… _confused_ about what had happened to make it go so wrong, so fast.  
  
Surely it wasn’t something he’d done, was it?  
  
He tried to think back on the things that had happened, but all he could remember was Merlin himself. The way Merlin felt in his arms when they were lying on the sofa watching a film. The noises Merlin made when they were kissing. The exact shade of pink Merlin turned when he told him he was gorgeous. The fact that it had been only a _week_ since any of those things and that he missed him so much that there was a pain in his chest.  
  
He knew what he had to do.  
  


***

  
Merlin heaved into the toilet again, gasping for breath. He let his forehead rest against the cool porcelain, not wanting to move, and sat like that for a few minutes to make sure that his stomach had settled before he got up slowly, flushing the toilet and stumbling back to bed.  
  
He hadn’t slept well all week, plagued by nightmares and undesirable thoughts, but his eyelids were too heavy to keep open. He was just beginning to drift off when he heard it again.  
  
 _It’s your fault._  
  
Merlin sat up immediately, clutching his head with a silent scream, his heart in his throat.  
  
 _It’s always your fucking fault._  
  
He leapt out of bed and ran to the toilet, where he retched again with bitter tears streaming down his cheeks.  
  
 _He was your friend._  
  


***

  
Arthur rang on the doorbell, shifting nervously from foot to foot. They were only small things he’d brought – a CD he knew Merlin wanted and an ‘I LOVE YOU’ teddy from Clinton Cards – but he was determined to give them to his boyfriend.  
  
It didn’t matter that Merlin had made it clear that he didn’t want to see him, because Arthur was going to fight for this.  
  
He rang the doorbell again impatiently and smiled widely when it finally opened.  
  
“Merlin! Happy Valentine’s day!”  
  


***

At first Merlin just stared, wide–eyed for a second and not knowing what to do, but then he sprang into action. He reached for the door, trying to shut it before Arthur could come in, but the bigger boy opened it easily.  
  
Merlin stumbled backwards, only stopping himself from falling over by grabbing onto Arthur’s arm. Immediately, he quickly drew his hand back and shoved it into the pocket of his tracksuit bottoms.  
  
“Why are you here?” he asked quietly, not meeting the other’s gaze.  
  
Arthur smiled and held out his hands, offering forward a box and a stuffed toy. “To give you these!” he beamed.  
  
Merlin’s heart thumped painfully in his chest. “I–I can’t accept these,” he replied, and Arthur’s face fell.  
  
“What?” he asked, panicking. “Why?” He started to take a step forward but seemed to think better of it. “Merlin?”  
  
Merlin turned away fully, not able to look at Arthur’s face any longer. He could feel his resolve cracking but fought the urge to close the distance between them. “I didn’t get you anything. _I don’t really like Valentine’s Day_...” he choked out, already close to tears.  
  
Arthur frowned and put the gifts on the coffee table. “Are you okay, Merlin?” he asked carefully, taking a slow, cautious step closer.  
  
Merlin swallowed hard and nodded briskly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”  
  
“You don’t _look_ fine,” Arthur said, chuckling a few seconds later at the memory it brought back. “You look awful, actually. Have you been eating?”  
  
Merlin smiled sadly. “No, not really,” he admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to hide them, but Arthur had clearly seen. He came closer and put his hands on Merlin’s shoulders.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he murmured, tone soft and gentle and filled with the utmost concern for _him._  
  
In an instant, Merlin’s face crumpled, and he let himself fall against Arthur’s chest, only kept upright by the arms wrapped around his waist. He sobbed loudly, chest heaving, not caring that Arthur’s t–shirt was getting wet, or that the front door was still open, or that there was a little voice in the back of his mind telling him to push Arthur away.  
  
“ _Please, Merlin_ ,” Arthur choked out, rubbing Merlin’s back and whisper soothingly in his ear. “Tell me what happened.”  
  


***

  
Merlin felt another sob rip through his chest.  
  
Arthur held him tighter, kissing him on the temple and telling him that whatever it was would be okay. He tried to take a long, deep breath but his throat had closed up. His mouth was dry, and his eyes were stinging, and for all his intentions to stay away from Arthur – from everybody – he just couldn’t fucking do it. He gave up, fisting his hands in the taller boy’s shirt and pressing in closer, wanting to be held tighter, just for a little while.  
  
Neither of them knew how long they’d been standing there when Merlin pulled back, wiping at his eyes. He swallowed heavily, refusing to look at Arthur, and spoke, voice just above a hushed whisper:  
  
“My best friend died a year ago today.”  
  
There was a beat of silence before Arthur gathered him into his arms once again more carefully this time as if he were scared that he might break. It was strange though, because Merlin didn’t feel like he was going to break. In fact, he felt better now. Better than he had all week. It was as if a small weight had been lifted from his chest, and he was no longer dying under the pressure of so many things left unsaid. Of course, there was still the shadow of Will’s death hanging over him and the aching hole in his heart and the knowledge that Arthur still didn’t know and that he _couldn’t_ know. Not yet. Not ever.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered into Arthur’s skin, wishing he could say what for.  
  
But Arthur only pulled back, cupping Merlin’s face in his hands. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he spoke firmly, stroking his thumbs along the other’s cheekbones. “I swear, Merlin, this is not your fault.”  
  
For a moment, the weight came crashing back down again, restricting his breathing and stopping his heart, and Merlin wondered if he could die from keeping secrets. But then Arthur was pressing their lips together, and just like that, nothing else mattered.  
  


***

  
Arthur suddenly became aware of the fact that they hadn’t done this in over a week, and he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it until he had Merlin’s bottom lip between his own and his hands tangled in Merlin’s shirt. He broke away, breathing heavily and not remembering when they’d moved to the sofa. Merlin’s pupils were blown wide, and his hands were clenched by his sides. Arthur felt heat pool in his stomach, and he closed the distance between them again, this time pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along the pale expanse of Merlin’s neck.  
  
Merlin was making these noises – these fucking noises at the back of his throat – that set Arthur’s body on fire, and he had to stop himself from completely ravishing the boy beneath him. Arthur was slow and careful as he let his hand slip under Merlin’s shirt and settle against his ribs, not demanding anything else but just lying flat against his skin. For a second, Merlin froze, unsure, and Arthur was about to take it back when Merlin _moaned_ , letting his head fall back against the arm of the sofa.  
  
“Do you—can I—” Arthur tried to ask if it was okay, if he should stop—but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. A small smile appeared on Merlin’s face.  
  
“If you take yours off too,” he uttered quietly, flirtatiously, and _god_ , Arthur hadn’t meant _that_ but he _wanted_ it, as long as Merlin did.  
  
He pushed Merlin’s shirt up, revealing his stomach, and carefully ran his hands over alabaster skin, tracing the outline of his ribs with his fingertips and making him squirm. Arthur grinned and leaned down for another kiss, but Merlin pulled back, a teasing smile playing on his lips.  
  
“C’mon,” he laughed, reaching for the hem of Arthur’s shirt. “Yours comes off too.”  
  
Arthur swatted Merlin’s hands away from where they were uselessly pulling at the fabric of his shirt and started undoing the buttons. Merlin’s mouth fell open.  
  
Arthur knew his body was nice – it was still tanned from last year’s holiday in Barbados and defined from all the sport he did – but he didn’t think he deserved the way the other’s eyes had gone wide and his cheeks had flushed pink.  
  
“Like what you see, huh?” he teased, trying for another kiss. But Merlin still turned his head away, frowning.  
  
“I didn’t know you had a fucking six pack,” he choked out, trying to pull his t–shirt down over his stomach again. Instinctively Arthur stopped him, suddenly realising that Merlin was _ashamed_ of how he looked.  
  
“Merlin,” he spoke firmly, running his hands over Merlin’s bare skin. “God, _Merlin._ ”  
  
In response, Merlin only shoved at his chest. “Get off,” he muttered, trying to twist out from under him.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Arthur laughed, grabbing Merlin’s wrists and pressing them into the sofa. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Merlin crossed his arms over his chest and quickly moved his gaze to the soft leather of the sofa beside him, refusing to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. Arthur leaned down to press kisses along his jaw, gently teasing the soft skin with his lips, but he got no reaction.  
  
Pulling back again, he asked: “Seriously, Merlin. What’s the matter?”  
  
After a short pause, a blush spread across Merlin’s face, and he bit his bottom lip as he spoke. “Well, look at you,” he began quietly, frowning. “Then look at me. I’m not—”  
  
“If you say you’re not good enough,” Arthur interrupted, a grin playing on his lips. “I will cuddle the _fuck_ out of you, Emrys.”  
  
That drew a smile out of the younger one, and warmth spread through Arthur’s chest. He leaned down to kiss him, and this time, Merlin didn’t turn away.  
  
They stayed like that, lips moving easily against each other and hands trailing slowly over naked skin until Merlin, suddenly feeling daring and brave, slipped his tongue between Arthur’s lips.  
  
He made a muffled noise of surprise but didn’t pull back, letting the kiss deepen, and at some point he moved from Merlin’s lips down to his neck.  
  
“Don’t leave any marks,” Merlin choked out, letting his head fall back, exposing more skin. “I don’t want to have to explain to Gaius.”  
  
Arthur snorted. “Great. Now I’m thinking about Gaius.”  
  
Merlin giggled but tightened his hold on his waist so that he couldn’t pull away even though Arthur himself wouldn’t even dare to try. He moved from Merlin’s neck to his collarbones – nipping gently until the latter was making high–pitched whining noises underneath him and his hips were hitching up into Arthur’s.  
  
Arthur rolled backwards, bringing Merlin with him so he was on top, still involuntarily rolling his hips. Arthur chuckled, moving back up from neck to mouth until he reached the shell of Merlin’s ear and he was making strangled sounds at the back of his throat, before he moved down once more to his collarbones.  
  
He could tell that Merlin was coming undone, and _God_ , he’d never been so turned on in his life. He wanted to map out his entire body with kisses—make him smile and laugh and _moan_ , and with the precious thought in mind, he started moving across, ready to do just that—  
  
He caught the slightest glimpse of a dull scarlet _so_ familiar. He pulled back, letting his eyes slip back into focus and _hoping_ it wasn’t what he thought it was, but knowing all the same.  
  
“What the fuck?” His words came out in a barely audible, almost agonized whisper.  
  


***

  
Merlin could hear the pain hidden in the other’s tone and immediately turned his head, looking at his shoulder to see the fresh new cuts that decorated ivory smooth skin, and as if he were waking up into the most terrible dream, the memories of the past two weeks came crashing down over him, engulfing him until he couldn’t breathe _._  
  
 _Fuck_. “Arthur, I can—”  
  
“What the fuck, Merlin?” he cut in shakily, his eyes incredulous and upset.  
  
Merlin swallowed hard, slowly shaking his head as he reluctantly met Arthur’s gaze. “No, let me—”  
  
Before he could say anything more, he was shoved backward and lay sprawled over the sofa as Arthur got up, looking around furiously for his shirt.  
  
“Don’t leave,” he pleaded, reaching out for Arthur’s hand.  
  
Arthur snatched it away, looking down at him in anger. “What the actual fuck, Merlin?” he asked, voice full of rage, getting louder with every sentence. Merlin flinched back, watching him spin around and head towards the door.  
  
“Don’t leave!” he begged, getting shakily to his feet.  
  
“Why the fuck _not_?” Arthur shouted, abruptly whirling around to face him. “How long has that been going on?”  
  
“That’s the first time,” Merlin mumbled, wincing at the strident edge in the other’s tone.  
  
“Since when?” he started to yell, throwing his arms up into the air.  
  
“Since we started going out.”  
  
“Well, we’re not doing that anymore.” Arthur turned away, starting towards the door again.  
  
“You don’t believe me!” Merlin shouted after him, voice nearly hysterical. Arthur couldn’t leave. Not now.  
  
“Of course I don’t _fucking_ believe you!” Arthur shot back, and Merlin had to close his eyes against the betrayal in his voice. He carried on, quieter but no less angry. “All I’ve ever done is try to help you, and then I find that you’ve been cutting into your fucking shoulders so you can hide it from me. Well fuck you, Merlin. Fuck you.”  
  
“You don’t understand,” Merlin quickly, _desperately_ tried to explain, but it was hopeless.  
  
“That’s because you never fucking tell me anything!”  
  
“It’s not that easy!” he shouted, tears springing into his eyes. This really wasn’t how it was ever meant to be with Arthur.  
  
Unconvinced, Arthur glared up at the ceiling above them. “It’s not easy to tell someone who loves you why the fuck you hate your life so much? Why you feel the need to _cut_ _up_ _your_ _body_? Am I not good enough? Not _clever_ enough?” At this, Merlin wanted to interrupt, to scream that of course it wasn’t that, but Arthur continued, not giving him a chance to speak. “Maybe if you stopped thinking about how awful your life is you’d realise that there are people who want to help you.” He paused, chest heaving. “If you stopped thinking about yourself for ten seconds you’d realise that _everyone_ has problems. You’re just too wrapped up in your own life to give a shit about theirs.”  
  
All of a sudden Merlin felt like he’d been slapped, and he reeled backwards, falling against the arm of the sofa before tumbling to the floor. He lay for a moment, head spinning and distantly aware that Arthur was still shouting at him, but it felt like he was underwater, detached, unable to hear properly. He found himself getting up unsteadily and immediately ran to the toilet.  
  
When he came back out after emptying the contents of his stomach, Arthur was gone.  
  


***

  
Arthur ran and ran and ran, until his chest was heaving and his lungs were on fire, then he ran some more. He laughed bitterly at the memory of Morgana telling him that sport wasn’t the answer to his problems, and him brushing her off, disbelieving. There was no denying it now, he thought, as he sped up, ignoring the pain in his knees and ankles.  
  
When he passed the park a deep hurt resonated inside him, and he almost stopped dead in his tracks. He and Merlin had spent time in that park, just lying side by side as the sun set, or kicking around a football. The memory of Merlin tripping over falling into the sandpit made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. He turned away, unable to look anymore.  
  
He jogged over to a tree, momentarily leaning against it as he caught his breath. He hated that Merlin could make him feel like this; so vulnerable. Anger welled up inside him and he smashed his fist against the rough bark before setting off at a run again, not looking back.  
  
He was glad there was no-one home, because it meant that no-one had to witness him slamming the door, angry tears burning on his cheeks as he ran upstairs to his room and threw himself onto the bed. He smothered his face with a pillow and shouted until his throat was burning with it, releasing all his pain and rage and betrayal into the crisp fabric until there was nothing left to feel.  
  
All along he’d thought Merlin was getting better, that he was happy. That they were happy together. It had been three months of going out on the weekends and sleeping over at each other’s houses whenever they could. Three months of shared laughter and kisses, of holding hands and lying next to each other on the sofa following an afternoon playing stupid video games. Three months of falling in love so slowly he didn’t notice it happening, until all he could feel was this pain in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He’d started out a little bit in love with Merlin, the clumsy idiot who blushed too easily and lit up the room when he smiled but who also bottled up his emotions, only crying when he thought people weren’t watching and cutting into his wrists and shoulders because it helped ease the pain.  
  
With this in mind, Arthur realised that he truly, deeply loved all of Merlin, for everything he was, and even though he felt betrayed and angry, he desperately wanted this to work, and he’d do whatever it’d take to fix his broken friend.  
  
He swung his legs out of bed and quickly sat up, ready to make it work in any way he possibly could, when there was a knock at the door .  
  


***

  
Merlin fumbled with the envelope, nearly dropping it on the pavement, and tried to stop his shaking hands, though he soon gave up on that. He took a deep breath before running at a sprint towards the house, dropping the letter onto the welcome mat, pounding on the door, and taking off back in the direction he’d come from, whilst ignoring the stitch that had formed in his side. Then he dived into a bush, which provided him cover and allowed him enough space to see, and waited.  
  


***

  
Arthur ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. He didn’t want to deal with anyone right now – he wanted to see Merlin. He flopped tiredly onto the sofa, deciding that it would be easier to wait until the visitor had given up, then go to see Merlin.  
  


***

  
Merlin crouched in the bush for ten minutes, ignoring the cramp in his legs in favour of reminding himself over and over again what it had been like to kiss Arthur and how much he wanted to do it again. He thought about the way Arthur’s lips had felt against his, about the noise he made at the back of his throat, and about how his fingers carefully, so carefully, slipped under Merlin’s t–shirt.  
  
But he also tried desperately _not_ to think about the possibility that Arthur had seen him and purposely not answered the door because he hated Merlin and didn’t want to see him and—  
  
 _Let’s face it, who could blame him?_  
  
But try as he might, he couldn’t keep the thoughts away, and after ten minutes, he got up and walked home, not bothering to wipe away the fresh tears on his face.  
  
  


***

  
Arthur still hadn’t moved after ten minutes, and he realised that his palms weren’t sweating for any other reason than he was worried about how Merlin would react to him after leaving when he needed him the most.  
  
With that painful thought in mind, he gritted his teeth, forced himself to get off the sofa, and strode towards the door, going so fast that he nearly missed the envelope lying on the mat outside.  
  
Gingerly, Arthur leaned down to pick it up and flipped it over, and his hands instantly started to shake when he recognised the handwriting on the front.  
  
 _Please, please don’t be a suicide note,_ he thought desperately, paralysed by the fear that Merlin – _his_ Merlin – might not even be alive anymore.  
  
Soon though, he couldn’t hold back any longer and ripped through the thin white paper before pulling the letter out.  
  
 _Arthur_ , it read, and, God, Arthur could see how much Merlin’s hand must have been shaking when he wrote this.  
  
 _Arthur, please read this. Please. I know you hate me –_  
  
“No, I don’t hate you!” he found himself shouting aimlessly to the air in front of him, not pausing to look up and see if the nosy neighbours had heard him before reading on in silence.  
  
 _I know you hate me, but please, please read this. Please. I’m begging you. I just want to explain myself._  
  


_***_

  
_I never wanted to lie to you or hurt you in any way. Please believe me._   
  
_Earlier I told you about my best friend, Will, who died a year ago...but I wasn’t being completely honest with you when I said he died._   
  
_He actually committed suicide._   
  
_He spent too much time around me – because by that point I was quite severely depressed, I think, though it was never confirmed by the doctor – and he got depressed, too. He got worried about me and my mum and his own family, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He killed himself._   
  
_He took his own life because of me._   
  
_But do you know the worst part was? I didn’t even notice there was anything wrong with him until he was dead._   
  
_It was all my fault._   
  
_That’s why you can’t be friends with me, Arthur, let alone anything more. I won’t let the same thing happen again. I won’t kill anyone else._   
  
_I’m so, so sorry for hurting you like this._   
  
_Merlin._   
  


***

  
Merlin didn’t make it to his bed before he collapsed on the floor. Then he crawled to the wall and propped himself against it, resting his head against his knees and fighting to keep his breathing at a steady pace.  
  


***

  
_“’Ello?” Merlin called out. His mum usually met him at the front door, but she was nowhere in sight. “Hello?” he tried again, only to be greeted with a muffled noise from the living room, followed by the familiar clink of bottles, and Merlin’s heart plummeted so fast he thought he was going to be sick. He hurried into the room, where she was laid out on the sofa, surrounded by empty glass bottles and the stink of alcohol._  
  
 _“Hullo Merlin,” she giggled, raising a bottle of beer in his direction._  
  
 _Merlin frowned. “What happened?” he asked carefully, trying not to make her angry. “You’re drunk.”_  
  
 _“Well, I thought I deserved a reward,” she said matter–of–factly, taking a swig from the bottle. “Don’t you think I’ve done well? I’m doing it for_ you _, after all.” For a brief second, her voice took on a bitter edge, but Merlin ignored it._  
  
 _“You_ do _deserve a reward, mum,” he replied softly, prising her fingers off of the bottle. “But not alcohol. You shouldn’t have. You were doing so well.”_  
  
 _Suddenly she ripped her hand away from him. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” she snapped, sitting up straighter and spilling beer on her shirt in the process. Either she didn’t even notice or she didn’t care. Merlin backed away from her. “How’s your_ best friend _Arthur_?” she asked nastily. “Has he killed himself yet?”  
  
 _At this, Merlin reeled backwards. “Wh–what?”_  
  
 _“Well that’s what all your friends do, isn’t it?” she crowed in reply. “Just look at Will! He was your friend!”_  
  
 _“Will was depressed!” he shouted desperately, tears springing into his eyes. Something snapped inside him, and he was burning with white hot rage._  
  
 _“And why do you think that was? It was your fault! It’s always your fucking fault!”_  
  
 _“Don’t talk about him like that!” His voice broke at the end, and after swallowing hard with a lump in his throat, he turned away from her. “And don’t bother talking to me. I never want to see you again.”_  
  
 _He didn’t wait for an answer before running out of the house._  
  


***

  
_He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t. He wasn’t the reason Will killed himself. He wasn’t!_   
  
_Except when he actually thought of it after all this time...he was. He could see that now, and he had to stop anyone else from getting hurt. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t let Arthur near him again, for both their sakes._   
  


***

  
Merlin was on his side, face buried in the stuffed bear that had stopped smelling of anything months ago. It was old and worn and not even _his_ , for fuck’s sake. It had been Will’s, even though he’d been fifteen and too old for a stuffed toy. The only thing Merlin had left of him.  
  
He wrapped his arms around it, squeezing his eyes shut and begging to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but alive, because what was his life worth if he couldn’t have friends? If he couldn’t have people to make him laugh and cry in all the right ways? To wrap an arm around his waist and kiss the back of his neck on the sofa?  
  
His breath was coming in short, sharp bursts, and Merlin thought for a second that he might be dying, curled up in a ball in the far corner of his room, and he didn’t mind, not really, because then he’d be with Will, and he could apologise for ruining all the happy memories they’d shared.  
  
But then someone laid a warm hand on his shoulder, and without looking up, Merlin already knew who it was.  
  
He held his breath and froze, but Arthur was pulling him onto his lap, holding him close to his heart. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured in a soothing tone, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”  
  
“No!” Merlin cried hoarsely as he frantically trying to get away. But Arthur put his hands on Merlin’s shoulders and looked at him firmly.  
  
“Merlin, look at me!” Arthur shot back, shocking him into stillness. There was a short pause, and Arthur exhaled slowly. “I’ve got you.” He spoke in a gentler tone, eyes softening as the words came out of his mouth. “I promise. We’re going to get through this together.”  
  
At first, Merlin wanted to struggle again, to spell out exactly why Arthur shouldn’t care about him, but the look in his eyes made Merlin stop and think that maybe, just maybe, if Arthur loved him half as much as he loved Arthur, they really could get through this together.  
  


***

  
_Six months later..._  
  
“Are you ready?” Arthur asked, holding up his envelope.  
  
Merlin gulped but nodded back in spite of himself.  
  
At this, Arthur chuckled, turning to look at him with a fond but nervous smile. “On the count of three?”  
  
Merlin couldn’t help but let out a small whimper, but nodded again, clearing his throat.  
  
Arthur took a deep breath, envelope poised in front of him, grasping it firmly in his hands. “One...two...three!”  
  
Simultaneously, they tore through the white paper, each pulling out a single crisp, yellow sheet. Merlin’s eyes slid over it, a smile spreading over his face as he looked down at the words on the paper. Nervously, he glanced up at Arthur, but he was wearing the same expression.  
  
“We did it!” Merlin yelled, dropping his GCSE results in favour of pulling Arthur into a hug. “We fucking did it!”  
  
Before Merlin could say anything else, Arthur wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and leaned in to whisper–  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
–so quietly that Merlin almost didn’t hear.  
  
He pulled back slightly, confused. “What for?”  
  
“Well, you’re the only reason I passed anything,” he said seriously.  
  
Merlin frowned. “C’mon, that’s not true. You were doing fine in English and history, and your maths wasn’t that bad–”  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur deadpanned, though his eyes were dancing playfully. “I would have flunked _all_ the sciences if you hadn’t helped me, and probably maths, too. Thank you.”  
  
The smaller boy – though he wasn’t so small anymore – at least two inches taller than Arthur – scratched the back of his neck, and Arthur smiled, leaning up to kiss him.  
  
Over the last few months, things had been hectic as they tried to balance revision with patching up their relationship. Merlin learnt that Arthur was worried about exams, about his father’s reaction to any bad grades he would get, and had started to tutor him straight away.  
  
As time went on, Merlin found that, not only was Arthur feeling better, but _he_ was feeling a whole lot better, _too_. Seeing how happy it made Arthur when he finally understood something he’d been struggling with made Merlin’s heart soar, and combined with his mother’s recovery, he became happier and happier every day.  
  
He truly was in love.  
  
“You’re disgusting,” Morgana laughed, appearing out of nowhere and pulling them apart. Merlin pouted. “How are they?”  
  
“We both did okay,” Arthur replied, grinning as he wrapped an arm around Merlin’s waist. “What about you?”  
  
Morgana bit her lip, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “Same here!”  
  
Out of nowhere, Leon appeared, pulling her into a hug. She threw her arms around his neck, closing her eyes for a second before pulling back.  
  
“Let’s go see Gwen and Lance!” she exclaimed cheerfully, grabbing his hand as she started pulling him across the hall.  
  
Merlin looked over at Arthur and grinned. “I’m so glad they got together in the end,” he mused, leaning his head against the other’s shoulder.  
  
“He’d better treat her well–” Arthur began, but stopped mid-sentence when Merlin giggled.  
  
“Don’t go all protective older brother on her now, you fool. She’s _fine_. You’re fine. Everyone’s fine!” He pressed his lips to Arthur’s quickly then pulled away. “We should join them, you know.”  
  
Arthur followed Morgana with his eyes, watching the way she took Leon’s hand in her own and laughed as if she didn’t have a care in the world. _I guess she doesn’t_ , he realised. _She really is fine now._  
  
He nodded and grabbed Merlin’s hand, walking over to where the rest of their friends were grouped together, clutching their own results sheets.  
  
“Oh jesus fuck,” Gwaine moaned, shooting a mock disgusted look at them as they approached. “It’s couple city over here.”  
  
Everyone laughed, and _this_ , Merlin thought, _is what life is supposed to be like. Smiling, laughing, having fun with your friends. Not a care in the world. Perfect._  
  


***

  
Later that night, Merlin and Hunith were sitting at the dining room table, sharing a celebratory jug of homemade lemonade, since she couldn’t have champagne.  
  
“Well done, sweetheart,” she said, gently knocking her glass against his. He smiled at her and took a small sip, letting the sweet liquid trickle slowly down his throat and savouring the taste before setting the glass down on the table and leaning back in his chair.  
  
He was back home now, after Hunith had finally admitted that she needed help – _professional_ help – and checked into a help centre over five months ago. Since then, she’d come a long way.  
  
Two months ago, she was deemed fit to look after him again, and he’d come home eagerly, albeit cautiously, easily moving his things from Gaius’ spare bedroom back into his room. At first it had been strained - Hunith trying to make amends every day and Merlin not quite trusting her - but he eventually he was able to forgive her, and since then life had been fine. More than fine. _Perfect_.  
  
“I’ve got a present for you, for doing so well,” Hunith beamed, coming to stand behind him.  
  
Merlin snorted as he turned around, trying to see what it was, but her hands were behind her back, hiding it from view.  
  
He frowned playfully. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”  
  
“ _Merlin_ ,” she started in a stern voice, firmly putting a hand on the table. “You’ve done so well in your exams, even after all you went through. You deserve this.” She held out her other hand, holding a folded piece of paper. He reached out for it, but she pulled her hand away slightly, teasing. “And before you say anything about money, we can afford this. I’ve been saving up, I promise.”  
  
Merlin nodded then reached for the paper again. She didn’t take it away this time.  
  


***

  
“What do you want?” Arthur’s voice came through the phone line, slightly crackly but his nonetheless.  
  
“Fine then, miserable. I won’t tell you the good news.”  
  
For a moment, Arthur was silent, obviously debating whether he should keep up his charade of not wanting to talk, or find out this _good news_. Eventually, after a lengthy pause, he chose the latter. “Go on then, tell me,” he finally sighed, and Merlin grinned.  
  
“Well, I don’t know if I should anymore,” he laughed, and could almost see Arthur’s face through the phone.  
  
“Merlin...”  
  
“You obviously don’t want to know.”  
  
“ _Mer_ lin...”  
  
“Maybe I should just take someone else on holiday with me, if you’re going to be a miserable prat.”  
  


***

  
A week later, the three of them – Merlin, Arthur and Hunith – were trying to put up a tent, and it was much harder work than any of them expected, especially when Merlin kept tripping over sand and Arthur kept stopping to laugh at him.  
  
“Boys,” Hunith chuckled, dropping the thin material for the third time in as many minutes and turning to face the two of them, who were ineffectually shoving at each other playfully. “Do you want to have somewhere to sleep tonight or not?”  
  
Merlin giggled. “We could just sleep outside...” he suggested, looking up at the clouded sky.  
  
Hunith only sighed, a small smile curling on her lips. “Why don’t you just go for a walk? I’ll do the tent and make dinner, and I’ll call you when you need to come back, okay?”  
  
Merlin nodded and grabbed Arthur’s hand, pulling him towards the sea. Arthur laughed and dragged the dark–haired boy closer, kissing him tenderly on the cheek.  
  
“Arthur...” Merlin whined softly, pouting up at him. “Stop it – Mum’s watching!”  
  
Arthur snorted, pulling him closer. “And? It’s not like she doesn’t realise we’re going out, you fool.”  
  
Merlin huffed out a breath but didn’t try to pull away. When they reached the edge of the water, he stopped and took off his shoes.  
  
“What are you doing?” Arthur asked carefully, though he already knew the answer.  
  
“We’re going paddling,” Merlin replied, ignoring the way the other boy grimaced. “That’s what you do on beach camping trips.”  
  
Arthur sighed but started taking off his own shoes and socks anyway, careful not to let any sand get into either. Merlin laughed at him, then grabbed his hand and pulled him into the water. Arthur most certainly _did not yelp_.  
  
“Oh my god!” the younger one wheezed once he’d stopped laughing. “You’re _such_ a girl!” For a second, Arthur started to object, but Merlin carried on. “You’re an actual girl! I can’t believe it! I always thought you were so manly – aaahh!” Merlin cried out as he was pushed backwards without warning into the oncoming waves, effectively soaking him through. Arthur started to laugh, but it was cut short as Merlin leapt at him, wrapping his legs around the blond’s waist and leaning sideways, sending them both sprawling into the water.  
  
They surfaced at the same time, eyes locked but unmoving.  
  
“This is war, Emrys,” Arthur growled, narrowing his eyes.  
  
Merlin giggled, moving his hand to push his drenched hair back from where it had stuck to his forehead, and that was all the distraction Arthur needed.  
  
He lunged, grabbing Merlin’s shoulders and pushing him into the sand. Keeping his hands pinned on the other boy, Arthur moved so that he was straddling him, and remembered that first time after school when they’d been in the same position. He smiled wistfully.  
  
“Stop smiling, you idiot,” Merlin grumbled, but he, too, was smiling in that ridiculous, giddy way that made Arthur’s heart skip a beat, and he couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him.  
  
Merlin let his hands hover at Arthur’s waist for a second, clenching and unclenching in the material, before moving them to his shoulders and giving a gentle push. Arthur broke away, though he didn’t get up.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
Merlin chuckled nervously. “Mum’s going to see.”  
  
Arthur turned his head to where Hunith was standing, looking at something else in the half–light. “She’s doing something with a load of pots, you sod. She’s not looking at us,” he laughed, before leaning down again. Merlin giggled, turning his head away.  
  
“She’s cooking, you prat. That’s something we plebeians do in order to get food, in case you hadn’t realis–”  
  
Arthur cut him off with another press of lips, and when Merlin tried to push him away again, he deepened the kiss, slipping his hands under Merlin’s shirt to run his fingers down his ribs, just like that first time.  
  
“I don’t care if she sees,” he mumbled against his lips. Finally, Merlin gave up and kissed back, peeling Arthur’s wet shirt away from his back to let his hands rest against his bare skin.

 

  


  
  
The sun was setting on the horizon, but neither noticed. In that moment, they had eyes only for each other. Merlin made a contented noise against Arthur’s lips, sending shivers down his spine, and he was about to shift his hips, hoping to improve the angle, when he heard laughter from down the beach.  
  
“Boys!” Hunith called, holding up two plates. “Dinner’s ready!”  
  
Arthur sprang back, feeling his cheeks heat up. He glanced over at Merlin, who was sporting a similar blush, and smiled sheepishly before beginning to make his way over to the fire.  
  


***

  
When the sun had fully set, and Hunith was pottering around in her tent, Arthur and Merlin were sitting by the fire. Merlin had his knees tucked under his chin, arms wrapped around his legs, and Arthur was behind him, legs on either side with his arms enveloped warmly around his boyfriend. He hummed quietly, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s ear.  
  
“What was that for?” Merlin asked, relaxing now that Hunith couldn’t see them.  
  
In response, Arthur simply hummed again. “I’m glad you’re better now. You know–” He reached for Merlin’s hand, entwining their fingers as he raised it to his lips and kissed the fading scars on his wrist. “And your mum. I’m glad you made it out the other side. I’m glad you’re here, with me.”  
  
Merlin chuckled. “In theory, _you’re_ actually here with _me_ ,” he pointed out. Arthur laughed, wrapping his arm around the other’s middle and pulling him closer, so that his back was flush against Arthur’s chest. They sat like that for some time, just enjoying each other’s presence.  
  
“I love you,” Merlin murmured quietly, heart speeding up.  
  
“I love you, too,” Arthur replied, not missing a beat. He leaned forward and kissed the back of Merlin’s neck, where his dark hair curled against his pale skin.  
  
Merlin turned his head and caught Arthur’s lips in his own, knowing that nothing in the entire world could be as perfect as this.  
  


~FIN~

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the art [here](http://alby-mangroves.livejournal.com/12689.html)!
> 
> The list of thank-yous goes on for a ridiculously long time, which is why it had to go here.
> 
> This fic was originally inspired by the song Be My Escape by Reliant K, and while it’s morphed a lot since I first started, I still believe that the song is a major part of the fic. Therefore, a thank you goes out to Reliant K, for writing such an excellent song. Thanks also go to S. Oliver, since I was partially inspired by a scene from his fic The Now. He’s great and I love him a lot. Give it a read, everyone!
> 
> I also want to thank my amazing artist alby_mangroves. Not only were the pieces beautiful, but she’s also acted as something of a cheerleader for me, always pushing me to write a little bit more. She’s brilliant, and I can’t believe I got the chance to work with such a truly lovely, talented artist.
> 
> Thanks also go to untitldsymphony – the other half of my coin and full time beta – and kitsunenochibi – who has gone above and beyond the call of duty as my amazing beta, proving herself to be an amazing cheerleader and, more importantly, an amazing friend. (It’s also coincidentally her birthday today – Happy Birthday! ♥) I couldn’t have done it without either of these wonderful ladies. Standing ovation, please!
> 
> Thank you to emjayelle, who helped me at the last minute - thank goodness you did!
> 
> My friends at school played a big part in helping me get this finished, though they may not know it. Especially large thank yous go out to A, who let me blather on about fanfiction and writing in general for hours, and to R, for letting me fangirl over things while I was on hiatus. They were both absolute stars. Thank you also to S, for showing me that reading fanfiction isn’t a crime, to M, I and A, for flailing over my favourite fics with me, and to Ma, L and Z, for being generally wonderful friends. I love you all more than you realise. Thank you.
> 
> My RP group may not have directly helped me write the fic, but they kept me alive during hiatus. GCSEs could have been hellish, but they made them bearable, and for that I can’t thank them enough.
> 
> Thank you to the guys in the paperlegends chat, who helped me through many a mental break down when I thought I couldn’t have enough to write, or I couldn’t start again, or I couldn’t keep going until the very end. They showed me that I could, in fact, finish a 36k fic, and for that I am eternally grateful.
> 
> An enormous thank you goes out to the_muppet, for accepting my draft even though it was nearly a month late, for answering all my queries, for organising and executing such a wonderful Big Bang, and for being a generally wonderful human being. Thank you!
> 
> Last (but definitely not least) are my buddies from tumblr: Cara, Giu, Marit, Nick, Kit, Jade, Zane, Cee, Caitlin, Hilda, Yas, Becky and everyone I’ve forgotten. I know there must be some more of you. You kept me alive and well when I went on the two month hiatus from hell, and let me rant about this fic for as long as I needed to when I came back. Let’s face it – this wouldn’t be here without you guys.
> 
> Just...thank you to everyone who made this possible. I love you all to pluto and back. ♥
> 
>  


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